Lifeline
by Xerxies19
Summary: Hayner is saved from a run-in with bullies by none other than Seifer, but even Seifer's protection won't keep him safe forever, nor will it make Hayner's crush on him any easier to bear. SeiferHayner, others mentioned. For Psycho Rooster. M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

-1 Hayner sighed as his English teacher called on him when no one else bothered to answer the question she'd asked.

"An unreliable narrator means we can't necessarily trust what the book tells us, certain facts could be arranged or twisted to suit the narrator's purpose in telling the story. It involves a lot more inference and skepticism when reading to determine what is the reality of the situation, and what are biased and possibly untrue opinions. Two examples are Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby and Dom Casmurro from the book of the same name."

It was the sixth question about literary terms she'd asked him just today, and a few of the other students were beginning to give him dirty looks. He looked out the window again, he really didn't like most of the people in this class. He only took it because he and Roxas wanted all their Senior classes together, it was the classic lazy senior English. Write about one essay per marking period, which were generally less than 4 pages, and read a book or two. It was a far cry from the class he'd taken last year, he'd had to write at least two 6-page minimum essays per marking period and write up daily journals on the nightly assigned reading.

"Don't let them get to you Hayner, you know they're just jealous, you have the best grade in this class."

Brown eyes drifted back over to his best friend, who sat right next to him. Roxas was currently giving the rest of the class death glares, particularly the four boys who sat in the back corner, who had made a rather nasty offhanded comment about the slighter skater's parentage.

"Very good Hayner, now class, you're going to pick one of these literary devices and one of the three books we've read so far these past two marking periods and write an 800-1200 word essay on how the book has an example of your chosen literary device, with multiple textual references. This essay will be worth half your marking period grade, so don't try to blow it off."

The class collectively groaned as she began passing out the rubric, the only ones unbothered by the assignment were the two blonde skaters, Hayner because he could write the paper in an hour, Roxas because he knew Hayner would help him write his. That was the only reason the blue-eyed senior had the third-best grade in the class, his friend practically wrote his essays for him. In return, he helped the math-illiterate teen in their trigonometry and physics classes. His tutoring was the only reason the sandy-haired senior was passing both classes with constant Cs.

"Wanna come over to my place so we can work our papers?"

Roxas had to suppress a laugh, "You mean I watch you do your paper, half of mine, then you sit there giving me help when I fail miserably at writing the rest of mine?"

The brown-eyed boy smirked, it was a running joke between them that the only reason they had respectable grades in all of their classes was because they basically cheated. It was senior year and they'd already been accepted into the local college, it wasn't as if it was a big deal, they just had to pass.

"Yeah, that."

"Sorry man, gotta work after school today, for five hours. Axel'll kick my ass if I don't show up."

Axel was his coworker at the pizza place, after constant hint-dropping and what some would call stalkerish attention, Roxas finally stopped avoiding his advances. They'd been going out for about half a year and it seemed to be working well for them.

"I doubt he'd kick it very hard, he is going to want it later."

Hayner laughed when his friend kicked him in the calf, hard enough that it would leave a bruise. He never missed a chance to make fun of Roxas's relationship, even though he'd been the one to tell the antisocial blond to let it happen. They'd admitted to each other that they swung the other way near the beginning of junior year, about when Pence and Olette started going out. Roxas had been dating Namine for three months over the summer before she finally broke up with him, saying he wasn't paying enough attention to her. It was true, he'd only kissed her twice over the time they'd been together, and rarely took her out, preferring the company of his friends.

He'd come over to Hayner's to spend the weekend a confused wreck. After explaining his feelings, how he'd begun to find men more attractive than women, and hadn't been as interested in sexual relations with Namine as she had been, Hayner had suggested that maybe he was gay. This hadn't sat well with the spiky-haired boy, who wasn't raised to think it was okay like the same sex, but after some explaining by his best friend that it was natural he decided to think about it. To help Roxas accept the idea of liking the same gender as something not to be afraid of, Hayner admitted he had a crush on the school bully, Seifer.

After a month of soul-searching, the reserved skater realized that he probably was indeed batting for the other team, by the time he started his job and met the slightly insane redhead, he was pretty sure of it. The two friends been even closer since then, some people joked that they were incapable of being 15 feet from one another for longer than five minutes, others alluded that they were together, both of which were far off the mark. They weren't each other's type at all, and they lived on other sides of town from one another, even if they spent half their time at Hayner's house, either studying or just hanging out. Roxas's parents still hated that he was gay, so he stayed with the other teen every chance he got. When he worked after school, he generally stayed with Axel, who was living in an apartment with another guy named Demyx. Hayner's mother was a psychologist who understood her son's orientation wasn't exactly his choice and was nothing if not understanding and supportive of both of them. His father ceased to be a part of his life when he was seven, so he neither knew nor mattered.

"Earth to Hayner, class is nearly over," Roxas brought him out of his reminiscence by waving a hand in front of his face.

He blinked and looked at the clock, he'd been staring into space for nearly ten minutes and the bell would go off in about two, "Oh, right, thanks."

"You okay man? You've been really spaced out lately."

"Huh? Oh yeah, just getting bored with all this school shit, wish it would be over already, thank god there's only a month of school left, eh?"

It was a lie, and his friend knew it.

"Maybe he'll come to the struggle competition next week," Roxas answered as he squeezed his friend's shoulder.

The 'he' was referring to Seifer, who had graduated last year. With a part-time job and college, the blond object of Hayner's affections hadn't had time to pick on him much since the year started, other than in the struggle tournaments every two weeks and Seifer's occasional days off, when he could normally be found at the skate park taking all the new kids down a notch or two, or the Sandlot training with Rai and Fuu. It had dragged on this way for over seven months, and Hayner was getting to the point where he might just break down and cry over how utterly stupid life was lately. Whoever said "absence makes the heart grow fonder" was right, and Hayner wanted to punch them in the face for it. His crush on the leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee had grown into full-fledged unrequited love, and he was sorely missed.

The bell rang, marking the end of the day (except for the poor saps who had an extra hour) and they filtered out, the four boys that had insulted Hayner earlier uncharacteristically hauling ass ahead of all the rest. He didn't exactly think it was to get home quickly and start work on their paper. He brushed the thought aside as he followed his best friend to his locker, which they had shared ever since Hayner's was broken into, stolen from, and never fixed, getting their stuff and heading out the side entrance of the large school, towards the Sandlot, where they normally said goodbye and split ways if Roxas was going to his own house or work.

"Hey Hayner, what, teach didn't give you a blowjob after class for being such a star student?"

The dirty-blond now knew why the four left so quickly, they wanted to make it to the lot before he and Roxas did so they could jump them. Two were already behind them, coming out of hiding from behind the board that was used for posting struggle rules on weekends, and the other two were in front, barring any escape they might bother to mount.

"No, that's right, you don't like girls much do you? Too busy getting screwed by the antisocial prick over there, I'm guessing," the apparent leader, a taller boy with a crappy purple attempt at a punk hairstyle continued.

"Fuck off, we're just friends, loser," Hayner snapped, going from zero to pissed in about half a second.

"Right, that's what you make everyone believe anyways. I'm not surprised though, it's not like either of you could snag anyone else, especially since you lost that hot piece of ass to that chubby buddy of yours."

Roxas had to grab his friend's arm to keep him from exploding at the idiot, even though he was equally pissed at the jabs to them and their friends, especially the way he referred to Olette as if she was nothing more than a piece of meat. He knew they wouldn't win a fight against the four, not only were they outnumbered, but all of them looked strong.

"Calm down."

"What the fuck man, am I just supposed to let him say that shit?" Brown eyes that were dark with rage turned on him accusingly.

"You really think fighting would be a good idea?" Roxas yelled back.

One of the boys behind him laughed, "Like you two could even fight back, fuckin' pussies."

Roxas's attention was diverted long enough that his hold on his companion's tanned arm slackened, and Hayner flung his backpack aside as he broke away, launching himself at the guy with purple hair.

"Don't fucking talk about me or my friends like that, you jackass!"

He barely registered the voice as his own before his fist connected with the other boy's nose, the nasty crunch he heard immensely satisfying to his blood-lusting mind. He landed a kick to the bully's stomach before he was sent reeling from a punch to the jaw by the guy adjacent to them. He heard Roxas snarl as he was held back from helping his prone friend by the other two boys, figured he was on his own until Roxas could dispatch them. He rolled away from the purple-haired teen and stood back up, only now seeing the knife in the his antagonist's right hand. It wasn't very large, but the blade was sharp enough to do serious damage, and he backed away nervously.

There were few times in his life where Hayner was genuinely scared, but this was one of them.

"You're going to regret that."

He already did, actually. The taller boy advanced on him and he managed to avoid the first novice swipe of the glinting weapon, but not the second or third, which sliced open his cheek and his favorite black shirt and the flesh beneath respectively. Jumping back, he put a hand on his chest, though the cut wasn't as deep as the one on his cheek, it was too close a call for him. Glancing at Roxas, he saw his fellow struggling valiantly against his captors, unable to break through the wall they created between him and his friend despite fighting in a way that was downright feral, the way he fought when he was desperate, wild and vicious. His backpack lay discarded a few feet away.

"Your fuck-buddy isn't going to help you right now," the knife-wielding boy said with a sneer made more sinister by the blood flowing down his face from his nose.

If Hayner hadn't been on the defensive, he would have given the man a swift kick to the balls for the insult. His back was now to the other side of the Sandlot, and he knew the other boys wouldn't be able to keep him from making a break for it. He entertained the thought of running for a second before he shoved it aside, thoroughly pissed at himself for even thinking of abandoning Roxas. He was so focused on the purple-haired boy and his knife he didn't even notice the other bully coming up on his side until his legs were kicked out from under him and he landed on his back in the dirt ungracefully. He really needed to pay more attention, he thought to himself as he tried to get up, only to be kicked in the chest. The air was forced from his lungs and he began to pray Roxas got to him before the knife dancing in the leader's hand found its way to something vital.

Seifer began to run to the Sandlot when he heard the sounds of people fighting, most noticeably the snarl he recognized as belonging to Roxas, having seen the spiky-haired teen fight for real once before, after someone beat up Pence. The blond man had been delivering a fairly small TV to a house nearby, whenever the electronics shop he worked for needed someone to deliver something, the job always fell to him since he was the only one strong enough to carry something remotely heavy long distances. There weren't any real roads in Twilight Town, only trams and He didn't mind, they basically were paying him to go for a nice walk while carrying a large box, it wasn't all that bad really. It was a Friday, so he worked from three to eight, other weekdays he worked from six to nine, and weekends he worked from ten in the morning to six.

He went from curious (he absolutely refused to admit that he was even marginally worried) to furious when he found a quartet of the typical dumbasses from his old school in the lot, one of whom was kicking a downed and bleeding Hayner in the side repeatedly while the other watched, knife in hand, and the other two were occupied with a raging ball of blond commonly referred to as Roxas. His legs carried him to the teen assaulting the fallen boy, tapping him on the shoulder, causing him to whirl to face Seifer and the guy with absurd-looking purple hair to stare at him.

"What the fuck do you-"

The rest of his sentence was most likely cut off by the gloved fist slamming into his teeth. He began to crumple, clutching his mouth in agony, when Seifer grabbed him by his shirt collar and flung him to the side. The older blond didn't want him falling on top of Hayner, who hadn't yet gotten up, just watching Seifer in stunned awe. The look made the stronger blond want to show off for reasons currently beyond his anger-charged mind's comprehension.

"Who the hell are you?" The boy with the knife asked incredulously, looking him up and down blatantly.

"What? You don't know me? Wow, must have some really good weed if you've managed to live in this town for more than a week and you haven't heard of me. The name's Seifer, head of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee," he introduced himself as he advanced on the guy, noticing the blood on the tip of his knife.

"This is MY turf," he added, punctuating it with a grab for the boy's right wrist, which he caught and snapped expertly.

The teen cried out as his wrist was broken, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers as he held the damaged joint with his left hand. The other two had stopped fighting Roxas, all eyes seemed to currently be on him, and he couldn't say he didn't like it that way.

"These are MY pipsqueaks you're fucking with," a kick to the balls that doubled the boy in front of him over, "and if you EVER touch them or any of their pathetic little pals again, your own mother won't be able to identify your body," he finished by kneeing the bully in the face forcefully enough to not only further break his nose, but knock him backwards onto his ass as well.

It wasn't that he really cared about them, it was more that they knew him personally and therefore fell under his protection, especially in his hangout. If word got around that acquaintances of the mighty Seifer got their asses handed to them on his turf, his reputation would suffer, that was the only reason. Both the purple-haired fucktard and the boy who Seifer had punched in the teeth scrambled to their feet, following after the two that had been fighting Roxas as they all ran away. He smirked at the way they turned tail and ran like little girls in his wake, but it fled almost as quickly as they had when Roxas bent down to help Hayner.

"Hey, you two okay?" He was all seriousness again and, he admitted to himself, worried at the way the smaller blond was still breathing irregularly.

His eyes fell on the tears in Roxas's clothes and the swelling that was already occuring on his jaw, then the cuts on Hayner's chest and cheek, as well as the way his face contorted in pain. He knelt next to the two boys, brows knit together as he began to wonder if one of them had kicked Hayner in the chest hard enough to break one of his ribs, which could have punctured his lung.

"I'm okay, just," Hayner paused a second, "gimme a minute to catch my breath."

"I'm going to call an ambulance-"

Mussed sandy-blond hair waved as Hayner shook his head viciously, "Don't...I said I'm fine. Mom'll freak if I go to the hospital."

He seemed to be breathing better now, and both Seifer and Roxas seemed relieved, the latter more than the former, of course.

"And she's not going to freak out when you come home beaten and bloody?" Roxas snapped, "You need medical attention Hayner, and we need to call the cops, those assholes tried to kill you."

"Leave it Roxas, seriously. I don't feel like explaining to my mom why she has to leave work early and come to the hospital to see my sorry ass."

His friend pursed his lips but didn't press the issue, he knew Hayner had promised his mother he wouldn't get into any more fights. He would probably just lie and say he fell on something sharp in an alley. They both looked at Seifer when his cell rang, playing an annoying jingle that belonged on a commercial for children's toys. They both gave him measuring looks.

"My fucking coworkers messed with my phone, I haven't had time to fix it," he barked, a little angry that someone was calling him right now, then he flipped open the phone and said harshly, "What?"

He frowned when he heard the voice on the other end, and he could tell it was all they could do not to laugh when he rolled his eyes, mumbling, "Sorry boss, caught me at a really bad time."

"Did something happen with the delivery? I told you that you should have had someone help you."

"No, the delivery went fine, I ran into a fight in the lot on my way back though, two of my high school friends against four idiots, one of whom had a knife."

"What? Are they okay?"

Seifer smirked, of course the question wasn't "Are you okay?", even his boss knew how good of a fighter he was. And it only stroked his ego to know it.

"One of them needs help but stubbornly refuses to go to the hospital, mind if I take him to the shop and patch him up? I know we've got a first aid kit for emergencies lying around," he said the first sentence louder than necessary and looking pointedly at Hayner, who glared at him.

"Yeah, sure, as long as he's not seriously injured."

"No, just banged up a little. I'll be there in fifteen."

"Don't think you're getting out of work 'cause of this either."

"Damn, way to crush my dreams."

He hung up, wondering why they were giving him a strange look, then realized he'd referred to them as friends. Well if that wasn't awkward.

"Come on you two, we're heading to the shop to get you cleaned up, can't have you going home looking like that, your mothers will assume I did it and I don't feel like having the cops bust down my door tonight," he joked easily, helping the smaller of the two to his feet.

"Th-thanks Seifer," the brown-eyed boy stuttered, embarrassed that the other had had to step in and save their asses.

He smiled, just a little, at the way Hayner's tanned and bleeding face blushed cutely as he fumbled with the hem of his torn shirt. Resolving to think of some favor he could ask of the boy on the way there, he grabbed their bags and started walking towards his workplace, keeping an eye on the two high school students to make sure they kept up. He never did anything without later asking for something else in return, though it was generally minor. It wasn't his style to just run around helping people for no reason, he'd be a saint by now if he did that.

He slowed his pace when they fell behind, Roxas pulling his friend's arm over his shoulders to support the weaker boy. Seifer had to admire their closeness, it was similar to the bond he shared with Raijin and Fuujin, they'd do anything for each other. He shook his head over the thought, the two of them had started going out once they graduated. Seifer still couldn't quite believe it was working out for them. Also, it made him wonder if he'd ever find anyone.

"Hey pansies, get the lead out, I don't have all day."

Hayner promptly flipped him off and Roxas's lip pulled back in one of his signature snarls, but they did move slightly faster, the older blond noted to his satisfaction. Just before they entered the store he pulled off his beanie and ran a cursory hand through his flattened pale gold hair. He stripped off his gloves and tucked them and his hat into his left pocket.

As he strode in he was immediately stopped by his manager Mike and his coworker Zexion. Both wanted to see the injured boys to assess themselves if the pair needed professional attention or not. Satisfied that the two were only in need of some bandages and cold compresses, they shooed the trio into the employee bathroom with medical supplies. Roxas insisted despite Hayner's resistance that the slighter teen be treated first, since he'd been hurt the worst. The bully shrugged and lifted the chocolate-eyed boy off the ground effortlessly, setting him on the sink counter so he would have a better angle to work with and be closer to the water.

It was about when Seifer began carefully peeling off the bloodied shirt that Hayner became extremely self-conscious. He suddenly realized he was in a store bathroom, sitting on the counter half-naked and dizzy, in front of his long-time crush. Glancing at his best friend in a way he hoped conveyed the awkwardness that he was currently feeling, he tried to think of something other than how the chilly air was making his nipples hard. His eyes roamed down to the man who was currently positioned between his legs, cleaning his wound with water with intense concentration.

It surprised him very little that Seifer was even more breathtaking when he was focused on something, his golden brows furrowed to the point the ragged scar that ran from above his left brow to end just below his right eye crinkled. The blond bully's eyes were impassable shards of ice that shifted as they pinpointed dried blood that needed to be removed before he could get on with the operation. He wasn't wearing his normal coat and midriff combo, instead he was dressed simply in a dark grey t-shirt with the emblem of Twilight Community College and loose black sweatpants, though his overly menacing combat boots were still a staple of his wardrobe, apparently.

"I know I'm sexy, but could you lift your chin for a minute so I can get a better look at your cut?"

And now the senior officially wanted to crawl in a hole and die. He was mortified that Seifer had noticed him staring, but tried to ignore it and lifted his head to look forward, catching Roxas's sympathetic look out of the corner of his eye. He hissed to avoid crying out as a cloth soaked in hydrogen peroxide made contact with his chest. As the blazing hot pain ebbed, the tall blond in front of him soaked another cloth, this one was dabbed on his sliced cheek. He screwed his eyes shut against his screaming nerves, resisting the irrational urge to deck the leader of the Disciplinary Committee in his smirking face.

He breathed a sigh when the offending material was removed, which melded seamlessly into a gasp as Seifer's bare fingers met his over-sensitized flesh, testing the wound one last time before he bandaged it. The contrast between the rough texture of the older blond's fingers and the gentleness of their touch was electrifying. He wanted to kick Seifer for doing this to him, however unintentionally, and kick himself for letting the fighter affect him this way. He tried to think of the most unattractive things he could to avoid getting noticeably aroused.

He began with the experience of going shopping with Pence and Olette, which was at best marginally sickening, then one of Axel's acquaintances, Larxene, in a bikini, finally settling on the school's secretary, Scarlet, who wore the most revealing and lewd clothing he'd ever seen in a public school as well as having a terrifying cackle, making out with him. He shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold and any sexual urges Seifer had inspired earlier were effectively quelled.

His attention was drawn back to the real world, where a gauze was being placed on his chest and in the process of being taped down. Once that was done, the scarred man looked up slightly to meet Hayner's eyes.

"I assume you'd rather have me just slap a band-aid over that cut on your face rather than deal with it properly so it doesn't appear as bad to your mother, right?"

"Yeah, I would," the sandy-blond answered, his voice a little rough.

"It's going to hurt like hell when you take it off mind you."

"What do you take me for, a pussy? I'm not gonna start bawling because I have to rip a band-aid off a cut a couple of times."

The retort caused the college student to shake his head, whether in exasperation or amusement Hayner couldn't tell. He backed away from the sink so Hayner could get down. He was just putting his torn and bloodied shirt back on when Axel burst into the room, tackling Roxas and sweeping the smaller boy into his arms in the same motion. As he began spouting worried nonsense, which Roxas somehow managed to understand, Zexion walked in.

"Sorry, I called him at home, thought he'd like to know what happened before he learned about it from Roxas at work," the slate-haired man answered their unspoken question.

"Wait, you know Axel?" Hayner asked, head tilting in confusion.

"Of course. He, Demyx, Marluxia and I are childhood friends. We met at a party once, but you were kind of...wasted at the time. I think Axel slipped vodka into your drinks."

Four sets of eyes zeroed in on the redhead, who looked rather abashed at having been found out. Hayner looked back at Zexion and he suddenly remembered one of the highlights of the party, it was probably later, after some of the alcohol had worn off.

"Oh my god, you're the guy who made out with Demyx for five minutes straight!"

Zexion shielded his eyes with his hand, lowering his head to hide the rampant blush spreading across it, and both Axel and Seifer roared with laughter. The blond because he'd just gotten new blackmail on a fellow employee, and Axel because he remembered the event.

"Axel, what else happened at the party that we don't remember?" Roxas said in a warning tone. Generally it meant that the tall pyromaniac needed to answer truthfully and in the next ten seconds if he wanted to get any for the next week.

"Uh," he laughed nervously, carefully setting Roxas back down, "Well, you know what can happen when you play truth or dare, Roxie."

He was trying to win favor with the volatile skater by using the pet name, and from the murderous look on the senior's face it wasn't working.

"Axel..."

"Okay okay, I give! Well, uh, you and Hayner were dared to make out, and you did, and Larxene kissed Hayner. That's it though, I swear!"

Hayner had to cover his mouth against the lunch that threatened to come up at the idea of the blond woman kissing him, whether he remembered it or not. Not only was the thought of kissing a girl unsettling to him, but having that girl (and he used the term loosely) be Larxene was downright disgusting. The blue-eyed senior gave him an equally sickened look, with an extra dash of horror that he'd made out with his best friend.

"Dude, I feel so sorry for you. I saw that chick once when she came into the store, she radiates bitch," Seifer commented, making a face.

"I think I'm gonna be sick. Roxas, if you don't kick your boyfriend's ass for drugging us, and then taking advantage of our drunkenness, I will."

The spiky-haired blond nodded, violently blue eyes glaring the shit out of the skinny man he worked with.

"Axel, we're going to have a nice long talk when we get home," he snarled, and everyone in the bathroom highly doubted there would be much talking going on other than the tattooed man's begging for mercy. Roxas's rage was legendary, and not even his boyfriend was spared it. Axel's shoulders sagged dramatically, it was painfully evident how completely whipped he was.

"Hayner, you okay to get home by yourself or do you want us to come with you?"

If it was anyone else but his best friend, he would have punched them for insinuating that he was weak, but he knew Roxas only meant well. Brown eyes rolled regardless, and he shook his head.

"I'll be fine on my own, you'd be going way out of your way."

"Besides, I want him to help me with a delivery, since you guys owe me a favor after I had to save your asses. Some retard put his street name on an order for a couple laptops but forgot his address and I don't go that way very often, so I have no clue where he lives. Dusk court, his name is Ludwig Beetles, which is rather tragic I might add."

"I live on that street, he lives three houses down from mine," the teen answered helpfully.

Seifer smirked, "I've finally found some use for you, chicken-wuss. Who'd have thunk it?"

Hayner scowled at him, part of him wondering if Seifer actually meant half the shit that came out of that attractive mouth, or if the bully was just using the degrading nicknames and jabs as a front. He, in his eternal optimism, liked to believe it was the latter of the two. That maybe Seifer always picked on Hayner more than anyone else because the older blond actually had feelings for him. Resigning himself to get a reality check later on, he sighed and walked past them, some people in the store regarding him oddly. He supposed it was understandable due to how he guessed he must have looked. Too bad he didn't think to at least look in the mirror to assess the damages or fix his hair, but no one could fault him for not thinking ahead when his crush was pressed close to him in a bathroom.

Hearing what sounded like Roxas's voice, he turned back to the lavatory, only to see the spiky-haired duo of him and Axel walk out. His questioning look went unanswered, the other blond just smiled wearily and they walked past him. Seeing his friend without other distractions made him remember that Roxas had sustained injuries as well.

"Hey Roxas, don't you want to get your scratches cleaned up?" He called as the couple neared the door, Axel bending down to grab one of the ditched backpacks.

"Axel absolutely refuses to let anyone else do it but him, so we're headed to his place before work. Don't worry, I won't let him off easy for the party, see you tomorrow around two so we can work on that stupid essay?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Now the few people within the store were really staring at him and the other two as they left, but Hayner really couldn't be bothered to care what they thought. A strong hand landed on his shoulder and he squeaked in surprise, turning his head to look behind him so fast it made things spin. Seifer laughed genuinely at the involuntary sound he'd made and removed the offending appendage.

"Didn't think you were that much of a wimp that you'd jump like that," was all Hayner received by way of apology as the Committee leader walked behind the main counter, through a door that said in bold, adamant letters, "Employees Only". Zexion came into view on Hayner's left just as the other blond disappeared. He turned just in time to have a phone thrust into his hand, with a start he realized it was his own.

"In light of what happened, I programmed Seifer's number into your phone, number eight. If you get into any kind of situation, just call him and shout street names, landmarks, anything, he'll come running, no matter what time. He always leaves it on in case Rai or Fuu need him, but I have a feeling that extends to you too. He cares about you, you know."

The senior stared at him, trying to process this information, before narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"What makes you think he gives a damn about me?"

The other ran a hand through his hair, the eye normally hidden under his bangs becoming visible for a second before disappearing again.

"I'm not surprised you didn't notice, but Seifer's knuckles were bleeding, just a little. He hit whoever did this to you hard enough to split his own skin, he's never that careless. He was either very worried, very pissed, or both. And he also took you here and fixed you up himself, do you honestly think he'd bother if he didn't care?"

Unconsciously he pressed a hand to his injured chest, feeling the vaguest stirrings of excitement take hold of it as he tested the idea of the icy man actually liking him back, even slightly. Allowing himself to cling to this little scrap of hope, he kept his face carefully neutral and nodded. He went to pick up his abandoned book bag and swung it onto his back just as the other blond emerged, carrying a black messenger bag designed specifically for laptops slung across his shoulder. The first thing to happen upon their exit of the store was the elder pulling out his trademark beanie and pulling it resolutely over his messy golden locks.

Armed with Zexion's information, Hayner looked at his right hand as he did this, finding that the purplish-blue haired man hadn't been lying, his knuckles were indeed cut, smears of dried blood marring the tanned skin. Against his better judgment, his own hand snaked out to grasp the other's as it fell to his pocket to retrieve his gloves.

"Your hand-"

"Is fine, let go."

His scrutinizing eyes raised to look into Seifer's, the man's eyes hard and angry, though whether at Hayner or something else he couldn't tell. He obeyed, releasing the taller blond's hand and letting his arm rest at his side again as they started off towards their destination. The bully's black gloves went on over the neglected cuts and nothing more was said for the next five blocks, when the blue-eyed blond asked out of nowhere, "So, Hayner, got a boyfriend yet?"

Stunned didn't even begin to describe it. The senior's pace came to an abrupt halt and his mouth hung open, his chestnut gaze filled to the brim with shock and confusion. Noticing the lack of footsteps behind him, the other turned to look at him, the corners mouth twitching into what might have been a smile.

"What? Did you think I was stupid or something, that I wouldn't be able to tell?"

"B-B-But I've only told my friends that I liked guys! Who the hell told you?" He stumbled, face turning a bright red.

Shrugging, he replied, "I told you, I came to the conclusion myself. You've never been with a girl, even though Olette hit on you constantly before she started dating Pence, you don't even bat an eye at Axel and Roxas, and just today we learned that you made out with a guy, even if you were drunk. Anyone who really pays attention to your actions would be able to figure it out. Back to my question, have you finally found someone or what?"

"What's with the sudden interest in my love life?" Hayner spat back, walking past the other quickly to hide his continuing blush.

"Curiosity. Also, another great reason to make fun of you if not."

"Go fuck yourself."

"So you haven't then," Seifer jogged for a second or two to catch up, walking beside the younger boy again, his voice grew serious, "I imagine it kind of sucks, what with all your friends being in relationships."

"Oh, and I bet you know about that, I hear Fuu and Rai are quite the item lately. What's wrong Seifer, suddenly feeling lonely?"

The sandy haired boy knew he'd gone way over the line when what he thought to be a look of sadness passed over Seifer's face, before giving way to annoyed anger. He'd struck the heart of the matter, and it sickened him that he actually felt a jolt of hope upon hearing that his crush was lonely. It was official, he was a terrible, selfish, heartless person.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Seifer deadpanned, not even looking at the other as they kept walking. The younger frowned, inwardly kicking himself for making the bully retreat back into his shell. Searching frantically for a solution, something to get the other blond to start talking again, he settled on a peace offering at expense of his pride.

"And yeah, it does suck seeing all my friends so happy, it sucks a lot. Especially...Since there's this guy I've liked for a really long time, but I don't think that he likes guys, and even if he did he doesn't even notice me. It's pathetic, but I can't get over him, he's the only person I've ever had feelings for, and nothing's ever going to happen. Life sucks then you die, right?" He ended lamely, his voice growing tighter as he related the depressing hopelessness of his near obsession with the person walking next to him.

"You're not going to tell me who it is, are you?"

"No, the only ones who really know are Roxas, Pence, and Olette, and they've sworn on their lives they won't tell anyone else they know I wouldn't want to know. Which is pretty much everyone."

"Well, while we're putting our bleeding hearts on the table, I suppose I can admit that yes, being around Fuu and Rai when they're in couple-mode does make me feel lonely. If you tell anyone that, I swear to god I will pummel you into oblivion."

"I wouldn't tell anyone, you can trust me a bit more than that. If you want to...you know, talk or something, I can give you my number. I sort of, already have yours, so it's only fair."

He felt every bit the part of awkward high school student, but if Seifer noticed, and he must have, he didn't say anything about it. He just pulled his cell out of his pocket and handed it to the shorter boy so he could program his number into it. When the younger skater was done he handed the phone back, looking around him to see that to his dismay they had at least another twenty blocks to traverse before they even got to the street he lived on. His poorly stifled sigh attracted the Committee leader's attention, a miniscule hint of concern in those pretty eyes.

"Getting tired? We did have to go in the opposite direction of your house from the Sandlot to get to the shop, especially in your condition, it wouldn't be surprising if you're worn out. We can take a break or something, I get paid by the hour and there's no set time I have to deliver this thing by."

"No, I'm fine. I'm not a baby, geez."

The elder shrugged and they kept walking, though a mere five blocks later the brown-eyed boy was lagging behind no matter how hard he tried to keep pace. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and he felt like if he continued he'd either pass out or throw up by the next corner. He stopped walking entirely and closed his eyes to try and hold the dizziness at bay. He distantly heard heavy footsteps on concrete and felt strong hands squeeze his shoulders.

"Hayner? Hey, say something, chicken-wuss."

Managing to pry his unwilling eyelids open, he mumbled some form of insult in response, leaning his head on Seifer's muscled chest. His neck suddenly refused to hold up his head's weight, and his legs were threatening to do the same. From this position, he could see that his hands were shaking slightly, apparently he'd pushed himself a bit too far for his stressed and injured body's liking. He both heard and felt the bully swear violently, hands leaving his shoulders to pull off his book bag before slipping under his knees and behind his back. Seifer swept him off his feet as if he were a children's doll, rough and gentle at the same time. He was guided down to sit propped against the larger blond's right arm, the feeling of dizziness gradually ebbing and leaving him feeling extremely exhausted and still slightly sick.

"Why didn't you just tell me you weren't feeling well? If you keep this stupid tough-guy act up, you're going to kill yourself. And you're a moron if you try to deny that you knew you couldn't handle the rest of the walk there but didn't want to appear weak in front of someone. Stop trying to prove yourself, or I'm going to fucking leave you here. If you're really that dumb that you think people won't like you just because you're not a hardass all the time, you're not even worth my time. Now, tell me truthfully, do you think you can walk?"

The senior shook his head, grateful that the other cared enough to even ask.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you keep going like that, damn it all Hayner, you better be honest with me from now on, I'm not going to deal with your bullshit any longer."

"Sorry."

"Shut up, you look like you're going to hurl any moment, talking will just make it worse."

He did as he was told and Seifer slung the backpack over the shoulder opposite the bag he was already carrying before lifting him up and carrying him bridal-style. Although he felt as though he was being treated like a child, he admitted there were many worse places to be than curled up in the blond's powerful arms. He'd managed to stop shaking after about three blocks, but when he casually mentioned that he might be able to walk again, he was shot down in a stern voice.

Twenty minutes later they'd arrived at Hayner;s street, Seifer shaking him out of his sleepy state to get him to point the way to both his own house and the one belonging to Ludwig. The elder set him down with none of his earlier gentleness, a few steps shy of just dumping him on the ground, dropping his backpack next to him, but he lingered long enough to see that the injured boy made it into his house without incident. The slight blond watched him through the curtained window by the door as he adjusted the strap of the messenger bag and, with an unreadable glance back towards the house, turned his back and headed to his destination.

Utterly fed up with thoughts and feelings, the brown-eyed teen whirled on the spot and dragged himself up the stairs towards his room. He changed into his pajamas, tucking his torn clothes between his mattresses so his mom wouldn't find them, lamenting the loss of his favorite shirt. He resolved to find time to himself to mend it, maybe when he finally got out of school. Finally he turned on his console and flopped on the bed, ready to just kill things for a couple hours, whether they appeared harmful or not. When his mother finally came home and called him down for dinner, she was understandably startled by his bedraggled appearance. Using his previously thought of excuse of tripping over some of the sharp trash that littered one of the alleys he normally took home he got out of having to explain why he had gotten himself into yet another fight, though by her skeptical expression she didn't quite believe him.

When he finally gave up on playing and crawled under the covers at quarter past eleven, the senior had to wonder if Seifer might take him up on his offer to talk. The leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee was far from the type to sit down and tell someone else about his problems, but if he knew the other was having the same issues, he might be more willing. Crazier things had happened. Hayner was in the midst of mulling over what Seifer had told him that day and what it could mean when the pressing need for rest claimed his consciousness from the realm of thought.


	2. Chapter 2

-1 Hayner woke up feeling like shit. His stomach was positively screaming and he felt like the second he tried to eat anything he'd promptly throw it up. Regardless, he rolled out of bed with a heartfelt groan to go on a quest for whatever strong painkillers they had. He gave the clock a cursory glace, scowling at it when it told him it was only seven in the morning. As he shuffled towards the bathroom he looked into the living room, finding his mom sitting in the armchair facing the TV, which from the sounds of it was on the news. Ignoring whatever that meant for the moment, he went in and found some extra strength acetaminophen, popping two of the tablets, downing them with some water and feeling a little queasy right afterwards.

"Hayner, are you okay honey? You don't look very good, there's a large bruise on your jaw."

He jumped a bit, not expecting her to have gotten up to check on him. She was leaning on the threshold, giving him a critical once over. He gave her a weak smile and replied that he was just a little sore from falling yesterday, and that the bruise was probably from when he'd smacked his head on the pavement. Her watery blue eyes narrowed and he froze, knowing she was going into over-protective-psychologist-mom mode, worried she'd try to force the truth out of him.

"Hayner, I know when you're lying. I wouldn't like the truth, would I?"

"No, I'm willing to bet you wouldn't."

"So you got in a fight then. Can you at least tell me if you started it?"

"No, Roxas and I were jumped on the way home from school. But, Seifer came and took care of them."

"Roxas was hurt too? Is he okay?" Hayner had just enough time to open his mouth to answer before she cut him off, "Never mind, you'd still be in the hospital trying to dodge the nurses as they made their rounds to stay next to him all night if he wasn't. I hope you at least had the brains to thank Seifer for rescuing you. I assume he was the source of the band-aid on your cheek."

"Yeah, of course I thanked him. He took me and Roxas to his work and patched me up."

"Patched you up? Hayner, how badly were you hurt?"

He was kicking himself for his poor word choice, and cursed whatever higher power saw it fit to give him a mom who was completely alert and highly astute at seven in the morning on a Saturday. There was almost no way he could back out of this now without freaking her out, and he knew that she didn't need to know her son got in a knife fight on top of the stress of her work. He should have never let her worm the truth out of him in the first place, but unfortunately, her training gave her optimum ability to do just so.

"Well," he paused, trying to search for the right words, "One of them had a small knife."

Her eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of her head and he braced himself.

"What?! Hayner, who the hell were these boys and why didn't I hear about them on the evening news? Did you not think it was a good idea to call the cops? They aren't going to just leave you alone Hayner, especially if Seifer beat the shit out of them like I assume he did."

He looked away, knowing she was right and not wanting to meet her eyes and see the worry there. She advanced on him and began tugging his shirt up to assess the damage she knew he was hiding. Sighing, the tired blond lifted his arms, knowing he didn't stand a chance against maternal instincts. At her slight gasp he looked down, startled himself at the purple explosions on his stomach. Even he hadn't expected the bruising to be this bad, his abdominal region looked like a recently vacated war zone, large purplish-blue spots in a haphazard pattern across the normally tan plane of skin.

"What exactly did you do to piss them off so much Hayner?" She asked, hands on her hips in the classic no-nonsense stance he knew all too well.

"I do too well in English for their liking, and they were pissy about Roxas too. I swear I never did a damn thing to them, I don't even know their names."

Blue eyes pierced him as he met them, he felt like his mother was picking him apart piece by piece searching for the telltale signs that he was lying. He maintained eye contact. She finally blinked and shook her head, shoulder-length blond hair swaying with the action, shoulders sagging a little.

"Sometimes I really hate it when you're not lying. There's really nothing you can do about it then. Try to be careful for once in your life, okay? Are your boards going to be out of the shop soon? You'll be safer the faster you can get home."

"I was going to check on the way home and then call Roxas to let him know, but I was kind of...distracted," he felt his face grow a little hot as he answered.

"Really Hayner, I know you like Seifer, but just because he showed up you forgot something that important to you?"

He bristled, brown eyes angry, "He didn't just show up mom, he took me with him to deliver something to Ludwig and ended up carrying me most of the way home."

Her eyes widened and her head tipped slightly to the side in surprise, taking his physical state into consideration again as she looked him up and down for what must have been the third time since they'd started talking. Long-trained eyes finally picked up the way his legs were shaking just the tiniest bit and she understood with a guilty jolt that it was hard for him to even stand here talking to her. Armed with this new information, she took him by the hand and led him into the living room, pushing him gently onto the dark blue couch adjacent the matching chair, facing away from the front door.

"Are you sure Roxas made it home okay?" She asked, a little quieter as she plopped down next to him.

"He didn't seem to be that bad off, and Axel was with him, so he got to their place fine one way or another. Oh shit, I forgot, is it okay if he comes over around two? We have an essay to work on together."

"Hayner, you're hurt. I don't think you should be having people over right now."

"But mom, I can't go anywhere like this, I don't want to be cooped up all weekend with no one to talk to and nothing to do."

She may have written entire papers on the mechanics of manipulation, but that didn't mean she was in any way immune to it. He carefully schooled his face to portray the injured, sad and lonely teen and watched her reaction. Most people didn't expect it out of him, but he had the puppy dog eyes routine down pat for when he wanted something out of his mom. Her face softened and he could just see her resolve breaking.

"Alright Hayner, but no messing around. If I so much as see a struggle bat in either of your hands, I'm kicking him out on the spot, got it?"

Large brown eyes rolled, their normal fire restored now that he'd gotten what he was after. She pursed her lips and he answered that no, they wouldn't even think of practicing in their condition. Honestly, he couldn't understand why she would think he'd ever want to be beaten with a padded bat when he had trouble just breathing. She smiled faintly and ruffled his mussed hair as she headed into the kitchen to make them both Belgian waffles to be topped with strawberries and whipped cream, one of Hayner's favorite morning meals. He offered to cut the red fruits like he normally did, but she told him to just stay put. A tiny smile crossed his face, he knew that she was coddling him just a bit because he was hurt. It made him feel warm to know someone cared so much about him all the time, no matter what.

As they often did, his thoughts turned to Seifer. Even though the tough older blond rarely said anything to him that wasn't an insult, Hayner still thought it was odd that he'd never once heard him say anything about his parents. He knew the bully lived in a multi-story apartment complex that was pretty decent for what it was, and that he had for a couple of years now. He'd never once even heard so much as heard a rumor about why Seifer hadn't still been living with his parents his senior year, and as he searched his scattered memories he'd never seen anyone who looked remotely like him at parent's night over his years at high school.

The senior wondered what had happened to make Seifer move out of his house and his family to never be seen with him for his entire high school career. It made him a little sad to realize that the hard man probably didn't have anyone that loved him like Hayner's mom loved him, or like Axel loved Roxas. Sure he had Rai and Fuu, but they were far from parents or partners. He sighed at himself for caring and got up when his mom called to him that breakfast was ready.

"Now draw a triangle and inside write V over quantity I times R. V is volts or charge, I is current or amps, and R is resistance in ohms, the symbol for which is omega. By covering whichever variable you don't know in a problem, you get the equation you need to solve for that variable. If you wanted to know Volts, you'd multiply current by resistance to get your answer."

A shoe nudged Hayner's leg as he began to drift off listening to his physics teacher drone on and on about something to do with electricity and resistance. His eyes lazily sought his friend, who was busy taking down notes, blue eyes biting into him in a silent reprimand for his lax attitude. Really, who could blame him? It was a Monday, he was crazy sore, and he really couldn't imagine ever needing to know this again for everyday use.

Olette and Pence were scribbling away as the teacher asked people what the answer to the problem he was doing on the board was. When no one bothered to answer, he began a two minute long speech about how they were "lazy, stupid, and unoriginal". Half the class was laughing at him under their breath and exchanging glances with each other. At the end of his irritated tirade, Olette held up her hand and gave the correct answer, which she'd figured out halfway through his rant. The lesson proceeded as normal and the bell rang ten minutes later. The foursome looked at each other as they got up to leave, Roxas and Hayner's next class was English. The blonds had informed the rest of the group of what had happened Friday over the weekend.

"Hayner, remember not to do anything to piss them off any more. Roxas, don't kill them," Olette ordered, sharp green eyes trained on them. They nodded silently and the two pairs went their separate ways. By unspoken agreement the spiky-haired skater walked into the room first, electric blue eyes locking onto the group in the corner. The four boys were apparently watching for them, all of them turned in their desks to face the door, snarls twisting their faces as the two entered.

As they walked by they both happily flipped the boys off, earning a scowl from the teacher. They took their seats and the teacher told them to work on their essays during class. The two smirked to each other and pulled out their mp3 players, Roxas glaring daggers at the idiots in the corner and Hayner just resting his head on the desk, grateful for a reprieve. The rest of the period was fairly uneventful, the blue eyed skater shaking Hayner awake as the bell rang. He dragged himself up from the desk, running a hand through his gel-stiffened hair. The rest of the class filtered out and they left warily, heading to Roxas's locker as per usual.

"Did you get any of the stuff in physics?" Roxas asked as he pulled out a couple binders and put them into his backpack.

"The part about the ohm's law triangle thing, or the fact that we're all morons who will never amount to anything in life so we should take up basket weaving?"

The other smiled and Hayner looked past him to see a bright spot of red in the crowd moving toward them. Axel put a finger to his lips warning the sandy-blond not to warn his best friend that the skinny redhead was coming up behind him. Roxas squeaked loudly and dropped the book he was holding when the pyro grabbed his rear. The taller man was greeted with an irritated shout and swift kick to the calf, to which he hopped up and down clutching it. Although Roxas's punishment for getting him and Hayner drunk at the party had mainly been punches to the midriff area, there were a few bruises on the green-eyed man's legs from similar kicks, hence the exaggerated reaction.

"Geez baby, you're so rough," the twenty-something joked easily, bright smile managing to coax a small grin out of the blond. Axel turned a bit to look at Hayner, taking in the slight look of confusion on the brown-eyed teen's face.

"You're probably wondering what the hell I'm doing here in the middle of the day when I should be working, right? Well, me and Roxie talked things over, then spoke with the manager on the issue and he agreed to give me a little break to walk you home, then take Roxie to his house or work, at least until you guys get your boards back. We figured you'd be safer that way. Anyone tries to hurt you guys and I'll burn them to a crisp," he explained with a mildly crazed smile, tapping his favorite handheld blowtorch from inside the bag slung at his hip.

The addressed nodded as a half-smile formed on his face when he thought of Axel roasting the highly flammable purple hair right off the leader of the bullies. He packed the last of his stuff and shut the door to the locker. They got a few looks as they made their way through the school, mostly raised brows at the oldest of the trio's appearance. It wasn't very often Axel made it to school to see his boyfriend since he normally worked during the time window Roxas was out of class but still in school getting his stuff together, so they hadn't had the chance to get used to his violently bright red hair and the tiny tattoos on his cheeks.

The dirty-blond felt relieved to know he'd have the comforting presence of the spiky-haired duo on his way home. His mother's words this weekend had struck an issue that he hadn't wanted to think about, whether Seifer's name and threats were enough to keep the gang away from him and Roxas. This way he didn't have to worry as much, few people would mess with Axel. Not only did he know his way around large knives, but his father was a trained bodyguard and thus the redhead always had a .9 mm in his bag along with the blowtorch. Strangely, he actually had a license to carry a concealed weapon.

As they neared the Sandlot, the silence they'd been letting hang around them since they left suddenly grew heavy and apprehensive. To Hayner, who was probably the most on edge out of them, it was as noticeable as a change in the barometric pressure before a storm and the electricity in the air that made your hair stand on end. When they entered the open area, the air changed from anxious to wary. Seifer, Fuujin, and Raijin were sitting on one of the benches, their conversation having come to an abrupt halt when they spotted the trio.

The tension grew as they all measured the other like predators would their opponents, Seifer's gaze lingering a bit longer on Hayner than the other two in the group. Impassible shards of ice flicked up and down, surveying him like he were a piece of meat for consideration, though the brown-eyed teen had a sneaking suspicion that the college student just wanted to reassure himself that Hayner was okay.

"So, I see you two got yourselves a nice little bodyguard now. Afraid those boys will come after you again?" The oldest blond asked, his tone snide and that trademark smirk firmly in place. Instead of going into a derisive monologue about how pathetic he thought they were as per usual, he actually remained silent after speaking so they could answer.

"Am I not supposed to be worried about my friend being attacked on his way home after they nearly killed him the first time?" The blue-eyed senior spat viciously, clearly not in the mood for the bully's insults. Beside him Axel's stance became more aggressive, his verdigris colored eyes glittering dangerously as he fed off his partner's anger. Fuu's single visible eye narrowed in answer to their offensive posture, though Seifer feigned ignorance of the threat, his face retaining its mocking smirk.

"What do they have against you anyways?"

"I don't fucking know! I don't know who they are or why they have such an issue with my existence," the lithe teen answered, exasperation with the whole situation making his voice a little louder than it should have been.

The smirk lessened a bit, Hayner guessed he was the only one paying enough attention to notice. Something about what he'd just said must have bothered the man. Regardless, when he spoke again it was in the same mocking tone, "Well, when he fails to protect you feel free to call me, I'll come and save your asses again, though this time the favor won't be so simple."

Crush or not, the sandy haired teen wanted to punch that arrogant look off his face, "Fuck off, we don't need your help or want it. Go back to playing badass with your friends, we're out of here."

He stalked off, wishing he hadn't managed to fall in love with a completely insensitive asshole. Roxas and Axel gave the Disciplinary Committee one last glare before following him.

Swearing for the third time that night as he looked at the clock again, Hayner rolled over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position so he could finally get to sleep. It was eleven on a Friday night, and all he wanted to do was sleep, since he'd stayed up all night for the last three nights working on a social studies project that was basically their entire grade for the marking period. Unfortunately, all he was managing to do was make himself aggravated, further decreasing his odds of getting any rest.

Finally kicking off the blankets, he got out of bed, resolving to take a walk to calm down and wear himself out, dressing quickly. He got to the kitchen and wrote a quick note to his mother, which he left on the table in plain sight in case she woke up and for some reason wanted to check on him. After the first time he'd left unannounced and received the lecture of a lifetime from his frazzled mother, he knew to at least leave a note whenever he went out if she didn't already know he was leaving.

He decided to head towards the movie theater that was only about ten blocks away, sort of in the middle of nowhere. It had woods lining the property on one side and paths therein, so it was a nice place to walk at night. Apparently a movie had just gotten out, because he was four blocks away from the theater when he heard a voice belonging to someone a little down the road saying, "It was okay, but aliens? Really?"

The voice that answered it made him freeze, recognizing it as that of the purple-haired punk that had pulled a knife on him last week. Hayner was sitting right under a streetlight too, so he had little chance of not being seen. He was just demanding that his legs loosen up and start going somewhere when the trio spotted him. Apparently one of the members hadn't been able to make it to the movie, but the blond really doubted one less opponent would help him any.

"Well, it's a good thing I brought dad's gun for a little target practice on the strays, ain't it boys?" The leader sneered, advancing on the skater.

Finally remembering how to function properly, his legs sprang to life below him and he turned and took off at a sprint. The slap of feet behind him told him they were giving chase, and he veered to the left down another street, hoping to lose them in the small span of darkness between the perfectly spaced lights on the road. He'd figured out he hadn't succeeded about when the rock hit him in the back of the head. A yelp escaped his lips as he crashed to the ground, hand automatically going to the site of impact to feel for damage. His other hand reached into the pocket he kept his cell phone in, flipping it open and speed dialing Seifer, praying like hell he'd pick up as they came closer.

Ice blue eyes shot open to loud metal playing, instantly alert. Seifer snapped his phone open and put it to his ear, knowing only three people could possibly answer, no one else who had his number would need to or dare call him in the middle of the night. He could feel his heart thundering, pumping much needed adrenaline through his system as he answered, knowing it could only be bad news.

"What is it?"

"Seifer, intersection of Sol and Luna street-" The rest of Hayner's message was cut off by a cry of pain and suddenly the other end went dead.

Once again grateful he slept in clothes just in case something like this happened, he jumped out of bed, jamming the phone in his pocket and mentally mapping the path he'd have to take to get from here to the area the senior had indicated. Doing deliveries all over town had an advantage, he generally knew his way around. He yanked on his boots and put his contacts in, cursing them for time lost while the brown-eyed teen was most likely getting the living crap kicked out of him.

Slamming the door to his apartment behind him he vaulted the ledge of the stairwell, dropping down to the bottom of the first flight he'd have to go down. Some days he really hated being on the fifth floor. He did the same with the rest, his feet tingling by the time he made it to the base floor. Making his way out into the street, he took off to the his left, knowing that at a normal running speed it would take him at least ten minutes cover the distance between him and Hayner. At the rate he was going as he darted through empty streets with single-minded precision, it would be about seven.

He thought about how utterly ridiculous it was that he was running through town in the middle of the night to help a shrimp senior who was being beaten up by idiots for no particular reason that anyone could ascertain. There was no good reason he could come up with that would explain why even when his heart was currently slamming itself against his ribcage in protest of his current speed he didn't so much as contemplate slowing down. The senior wouldn't have called if he wasn't in serious shit, so every second counted at this point, but Seifer really shouldn't have been so damned worried about him.

The leader of the Disciplinary Committee thought about calling the cops, but pushed it away, knowing it would only slow him down. Besides, he was already having trouble breathing, throw talking into the mix and he'd pass out. Almost certain the only reason he was still standing was adrenaline, he arrived at the specified street. He was met with the sickening crack of a bone breaking and a scream that was most definitely from Hayner. The slight blond was on the ground in the fetal position, left arm curled against his chest. His face was covered in blood, mostly from his nose and mouth, and his right eye was shut, the other staring straight at him with a mixture of heady relief and pain.

"Get the FUCK away from him," the blond's savior shouted, fury lacing his every word. The three boys' heads shot up from looking at their prey to land on him. Shock was the first thing evident on their faces, then the leader's lip curled into a highly unattractive snarl.

"Nice of you to join us, Seifer, was it? But it looks like you brought your fists to a gun fight, sucks to be you."

By the look of horror on Hayner's face, the punk wasn't bluffing. He could practically hear the injured teen urging him to run, and it drew an arrogant smirk to his face. Even if the pack of fools had a gun on them, it was unlikely they could stop him with it.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Now if you'd kindly get your stupid asses away from Hayner, I can kick them properly for you."

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to taunt an enemy that not only had an advantage in number but also a potentially deadly weapon, but his rage-fueled mind wasn't interested in sense at this point. He just wanted to bust some heads and get the bleeding boy to the hospital as quickly as possible. Not only had they hurt Hayner, but they'd ignored his warning, effectively questioning his authority. That was unacceptable, and gun or no he'd make them pay for it.

"No thanks," the leader said simply, pulling a small pistol out from the waistband of the back of his pants, where it had been hidden by his shirt. The shot rang loud in the still spring air and Seifer fell to one knee, white hot pain shooting through him. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth and looked down to his right leg, where a dark red flower blossomed on his black pants. His mouth twisted into a smile.

"It's sad that you think a little thing like a bullet in my leg is going to stop me. It's time I rectify that mistake."

As he stood, the pain making his blood thrum through his veins, the gun was re-aimed, this time trained on his chest. He tensed to dodge when the other telegraphed, which an untrained gunman always did, when suddenly Hayner shot up from his earlier position on the asphalt. The skater grabbed the purple-haired antagonist's arm and pulled it forcefully away from pointing at Seifer, then sank his teeth into it. The gun clattered to the pavement as the bully cried out in pain, blood dripping off his arm onto the ground.

Seifer's heart wrenched uncharacteristically in his chest as one of the other two bullies pulled him off their companion and kneed the skinny senior hard in the chest, the sound of ribs cracking following the action. A short shout of pain issued from his lips before he fell forward limply, prone body still. The boy who'd grabbed him stepped over him and bent to pick up the lost weapon. He had his hand on it when a large combat boot came crashing down, breaking multiple bones. The blood welling inside the footwear from the bullet wound caused it to make a wet sound that was partially drowned out by the scream.

The enraged fighter drove his other boot into his stomach hard enough to lift the boy's bent-double body clear off the ground. The third non-descript member of the gang received a left hook to the jaw for trying to stop the blood-crazed college student, sending him sprawling. Seifer slammed the second boy's face into the pavement, the carnal part of him enjoying the way blood gushed from the badly broken nose.

"This, boys, is what happens when you mess with me or anyone I associate with, especially after I warn you," he said with a sneer, turning to the already bleeding leader. The terrified teen tried to back away from him, but anger and natural chemicals made the blond faster. He grabbed the instigator of this whole situation and slammed his fist into the younger's stomach, stopping only when he hit the spine. The wannabe gunman gasped loudly, mouth resembling a fish's as he tried to draw breath back into his body.

Laughing madly, the older bully kicked him in the jaw, his head snapping back from the impact. He lost his balance and fell over onto his ass, pain-disoriented eyes finding the blue-eyed man, immense fear plain to see.

"So you think it's cool to prey on people for no reason huh? You like breaking bones just because you can? Shooting people because it makes you feel better about yourself? Well, do you?"

"Fuck you, dickface, you're no better! We never did anything to you."

His lip pulled into a snarl that was downright feral, "Oh, so trying to kill someone I know and actually give a fuck about is nothing? If that's the way you see it, then sure, you never did anything to me, I'm just a jackass who helps people in need. God I feel so bad about it too."

His hand snapped out to grab the purple-haired boy's right wrist and pulled the arm out straight. Seifer's uninjured thigh came up hard and he savored the sound of the idiot's arm breaking neatly under the concentrated force. The added sound of agony that ripped from the teen's body was icing on the cake. Ice blue eyes caught the third boy trying to slip away unnoticed and he tackled the deserter to the ground, jumping off him as soon as they landed and delivering six loud kicks to the boy's ribcage, remembering him to be the one he found kicking Hayner during the first fight.

Turning back to the leader once again, he smiled indulgingly and asked, "Well, have you boys learned your lesson yet?" To which the grimacing man nodded emphatically, clutching his broken arm.

"Oh good. Then we can go ahead and end this little learning session, can't we?" He seized the front of the kid's shirt and lifted him off the ground, landing two solid punches to his stunned face. Clearly unconscious, the moronic student grew limp in his grasp and Seifer let his body fall ungracefully to the earth. Taking a deep breath to both calm himself and brace for the energy that had been keeping him on his feet to leave in a rush, he strode over to where Hayner lay.

Kneeling, he rolled the unmoving senior over, pulling him into his lap. A wave of relief crashed over him when he saw the shallow rise and fall of the smaller boy's chest, signaling that he was relatively okay. He sighed and shifted into a sitting position so that he could rest the sandy-blond in his lap, deciding the badly injured boy had spent enough time laying on the ground for the night.

"Is he okay?"

Half-lidded eyes flew open and he twisted a bit to see a little old lady in her night robe and slippers picking her way over the bodies. Her wrinkled face was creased with worry as she looked at Hayner, then to the conscious man again.

"I don't know. I think his arm and ribs are broken, but he's breathing at least. Have you called the emergency services already?"

"Yes, I did a few minutes ago, they should be here very soon. I woke up when a heard a ruckus, I saw when they broke his arm from my window. I'll be happy to testify as a witness to the fact that what you did here was self-defense. How's your leg?" She inquired, greenish blue eyes intelligent and lucid.

"Barely bothers me," he lied, feeling lightheaded and sick from the nasty combination of blood loss, pain, and coming off an adrenaline-powered high.

"I'll be right back, I'll go grab him a blanket, I'm sure he's freezing out here."

The tired fighter nodded gratefully as she walked fairly quickly back into her house, which was right behind him. She returned a minute later with a dark bedspread, as he wrapped it around Hayner he recognized the design as being a silvery horse running towards the person looking at it with a background of blue and black. He thanked her quietly and tilted his head back, watching the stars and waiting for the flashing lights and sirens that would herald the only motor vehicles that were allowed in Twilight Town.

He didn't need to wait long, the medics, ambulances and cop cars all converging on the scene moments later. The sleeping blond was lifted from his arms and put on a gurney before being taken into the first ambulance. The strong blond got up and followed, favoring his previously ignored injured leg heavily and pushing off the paramedics who tried to stop him from walking. He climbed into the same ambulance as Hayner with nothing but a mumbled "He's my friend" by way of explanation. Fighting to remain conscious through the haze that clouded his mind, he rode to the hospital without taking his eyes off the senior.


	3. Chapter 3

-1 A distant beeping sound and pain were the first things to greet Hayner when he finally came to. As he opened his eyes, the right one fighting him all the way, he was instantly aware of two people looking down at him with intense interest. Expecting his mother and Roxas, he was startled to find Fuujin and Raijin blocking his field of view instead.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Was the most intelligent thing he could think of to say at the moment. Fuu's eye narrowed decisively and she walked over to the door, looking to her right then left and finding her desired target.

"DOCTOR, AWAKE."

The blond flinched at her loud and concise words and Rai gave him a look of sympathy. A guy in a white overcoat and scrubs whom he assumed to be a doctor walked in with a surprised smile.

"Hayner, you're finally awake. How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

"My chest hurts a little, and if you could get this stuff off me I'd be a lot more comfortable," he said, gesturing to the IV in his arm and strange tube leading into his nose. He also noticed his chest was bound with something, he guessed bandages, and his left arm was in a dark green cast from just below the elbow down, though he could wiggle his fingers.

"Sorry, you've been unresponsive for three days, we had to-"

"I don't even want to know, thanks," he cut the man off, happy in his ignorance of precisely what they did to him while he was out. The man nodded understandingly and introduced himself as Dr. Kimellt, taking the tube out, the end dragging against his throat a little. The experience left the blond feeling rather violated. The physician checked his pulse and heartbeat before speaking again, asking a nearby nurse for a needle and some Demerol.

"You had a pretty bad time of it I hear. Your friend Roxas was here up until last night when he passed out on the floor. We tried to make him leave the first day but he threw such an unholy fuss we let him stay for his own well being. He apparently didn't sleep, he was waiting for you to wake up, said he knew you'd want him to be there when you did. His friend, had really bright red hair, took him home. Your mom is at work, she said to call as soon as you opened your eyes. Shall I go ahead and call her over?"

The injured senior nodded, worried about Roxas and grateful his friend had been there for him even if he wasn't awake to know it. The nurse returned and handed the doctor what he'd asked for, and he promptly injected the strong painkiller into Hayner's right shoulder. He turned and began walking out, halting just as he was about to leave.

"Seifer's room is the third door on your right, and if you see a doctor walking around with a shiner, he's the one who attempted to tell Seifer he couldn't get out of bed to check on you, he was midway to your room at the time. Walking on his injured leg."

"He punched a doctor?" Hayner's mouth hung open, having trouble understanding what could have possessed the normally contained man to do so.

"Yeah, but the doctor doesn't plan to press any charges. It's not really his fault, everyone's volatile when they're in that kind of pain, they just can't think straight."

"Wait, why haven't you put him on some sort of painkillers?" Blond brows knit angrily thinking of the blue-eyed man having to deal with the agony without the blissful numbness brought on by prescription-strength drugs.

Dr. Kimellt paused and turned his eyes to Fuu and Rai. The pair exchanged a look and through what the youngest could only guess was a telepathic connection came to an agreement and looked back at the doctor, Fuu nodding.

"We would, but he's allergic to morphine and the other shots we could give him make him so sick he throws up, which would do nothing but stunt his recovery. He also refuses any form of pill medication like lortab because back before he moved here, midway into his eighth grade year, he was involved in a drunk driving accident.

"He was badly injured, most of his ribs broken, his right femur and left humerus shattered. He was lucky he was shot where he was Friday night, if the bullet had hit bone instead of going right through him it would have most certainly hit the weakened bone and undone all the healing. He underwent about four surgeries to fix everything and during that period he became addicted to the painkillers he was put on. He hasn't so much as popped a children's aspirin since he overcame the addiction, and we have to respect his choice, so he isn't on anything."

Tanned features paled as he thought of how hard it must have been for the fighter to survive for nearly five years without any kind of drugs to numb the pain. His heart ached in his chest when he realized that maybe the accident had something to do with the blond's significant lack of visible parental figures. What if they were just...dead? He closed his eyes a moment, steeling himself, opening them again when he felt like he could pretend to be his normal self.

"Fuu, Rai, why don't you take him to see Seifer? I think it'll do them both some good. Hayner, be careful, two of your ribs are cracked and your left ulna is broken. The vision in your right eye might be a little blurry for a while, you were hit pretty hard. Also, breathing through your nose might be hard for a while, we tried to flush most of the clotted blood out but-"

"Like I said, don't want to know."

The older man smiled indulgently and went to go call Hayner's mom, leaving the brown-eyed teen in the care of the two other members of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee.

"So, I reiterate my question, what were you guys doing here staring at me anyways?"

"WATCH."

"Since Roxas fell asleep there wasn't anyone around to keep an eye on you, ya know? Seifer sent us to make sure nothing happened to you. He told us to tell him as soon as you woke up, or do our best to get you over there since he can't come and see you himself. He seemed kinda worried to me," Rai clarified easily.

Running a hand through unkempt and un-gelled hair, the senior guessed how horrible he must have looked. He could feel the bruising around his right eye just from the way it hurt to keep it open, he could see the discoloration around his re-set nose and his swollen lower lip throbbed dully. Sighing, he wondered if he even wanted to see the blond he'd fallen for looking like he did. Fuujin and Raijin were standing there waiting for him though, so he may as well. It wasn't like he couldn't take the shit the attractive asshole threw his way, he had up until this point.

As he pulled himself out of the hospital bed he realized he was clad in little but one of those stupid gowns. He made a mental note to ask for clothes as soon as possible as he stumbled a bit. It was harder than he thought to walk when drugged and injured, not to mention he hadn't been on his feet for the past three days. He managed it though, venturing down the hall with his two escorts flanking him like he were some sort of precious cargo. When he walked into the room, he could have sworn he saw the bedridden Seifer perk up instantly upon seeing him, but it was probably just the drugs messing with his mind as it was gone a second later. Fuu and Rai left them to go pursue coffee and bagels, promising to bring them back some, since evidently it was around breakfast time.

"You're looking better."

"Better? You mean I looked worse than this before?" He was bordering on embarrassed, only being able to imagine how bad he'd looked right after the incident.

"A lot. Especially at the scene, I wondered if you'd even make it. Guess you're not quite as much of a pansy as I thought. It was actually marginally helpful of you to bite the freak back there, thanks. He was a shit fighter without his little toys to hide behind," his smirk made a reappearance, though it was a little off, forced.

Hayner blushed as he neared the bedside, he always hated thanking people, most of all Seifer, it was even worse when the latter thanked him for anything, "Thanks for saving my ass again and all. It's-It's my fault you got hurt, I'm sorry."

Ice blue eyes narrowed to slits and he lifted his arm to flick the senior hard on the forehead in reprimand.

"What the hell was that for?" He snapped, rubbing the site of impact, which had managed to miraculously avoid any previously damaged areas.

"Don't you ever be sorry for that. If you hadn't called you'd be dead right now, you were almost dead when I got there. I didn't let Zex give you my number for no reason, the whole point was to give you someone to call if something like that happened. If I was really that scared of getting hurt I simply wouldn't have come."

The lithe blond had never seen Seifer this angry, excluding when he had shown up Friday night. His brows were drawn down enough to mar the already jagged scar and his lip was drawn back in a fierce snarl. Maybe it was wrong, but it stirred a sliver of excitement in him that he could actually affect the college student in some way, even if it was only provoking anger.

"Alright, fine, I'm not sorry you were stupid enough to run into a dangerous situation.," he paused, then added with less of an edge to his voice, "Are you okay? I heard about how you're not on anything for the pain. I hope it's okay that I know, I won't tell anyone else."

"Fuck Hayner, I've gotten hurt a lot worse than this and lived with it. Unlike the rest of this pathetic society I don't need psychotropic painkillers to get me through the day when I take a bullet. And you probably would have found out eventually, most people ask about the scar and the accident was the source of it."

The younger could just hear the 'and more' tacked onto the end of the injured man's sentence. His interest was piqued, but he'd be damned if he was going to prod him about it right now. He thought about going to sit in the chair in the corner of the room with a large window since he was beginning to feel lightheaded, but opted out of it, enjoying having his crush at such close proximity and not either bleeding or having insults spat at him incessantly. In another moment the decision was removed from his hands when Seifer wrapped an arm around his waist and twisted him slightly before pulling him down to sit on the side of the bed.

"God you're too stupid to so much as sit down before you fall down. Do you really think the people around you are so absorbed in their own thoughts that they won't notice when you begin to sway on your feet?"

"You're even more pleasant when in pain I see. Were you always this much of an asshole or did you have work at it?" The smaller teen asked, eyes rolling at the man's constant barrage of remarks.

A slow smile spread across Seifer's face, "What? Can't handle me pointing out your various mistakes and flaws? Too bad, you'll have to deal with me all day for the next week at least."

"What?" If he wasn't completely awake up until then he certainly was now, eyes wide as he tried to guess the smug man's meaning.

"I warned you the favor for me showing up to save your ass a second time wouldn't be as simple. I'm staying at your place until I can walk without crutches since my apartment is on the fifth floor and conveniently enough there is no elevator in our building, since it's older. Your mom and I talked it over while you were still out, I'll be taking the guest room next to yours. She's pretty scary, I gotta say. She managed to talk the dumbfucks' parents out of pressing charges against me, two of the kids are going to juvy since they're only seventeen. and the one who pulled a knife on you and fired his gun at me is old enough to be tried as an adult for various charges. Since the first attack wasn't reported, the guy who wasn't there last Friday can't really be tried."

The skinny skater tuned him out after the part about living together, knowing his mother was probably cooking up some elaborate scheme to find out if the college student had any kind of feelings for her son. He wouldn't put it past her, especially when presented with such a great opportunity to get inside the cold male's head. Pushing his fears of his mother revealing too much to Seifer about what Hayner thought of him, he realized this was a chance for him to at least get to know a little more about the enigmatic fighter. Like whether or not his parents were even alive.

"Hayner. Hey, chicken-wuss, you could at least pretend like you're paying attention."

A hand waved in front of his face erratically, jerking him from his thoughts enough for him to realize the blue-eyed man had stopped speaking. He blushed, hoping the older teen would link his lack of focus with the drugs he knew must be circulating through him by now due to the fact that he wasn't in much pain anymore. Indeed the other sighed and shook his head, asking if the sandy-haired teen had any idea what they had him on.

"I think the doctor said it was Demerol."

"Oh, great. Good luck with that. Hope that shit doesn't make you as sick as it makes me," he said, grimacing. The senior always found it interesting when Seifer's face wore an expression other than smug superiority or a scowl, since it was a fairly rare happening. He wondered if the blond even took off his mask when alone, and rather doubted it. It made him sad that the bully thought it necessary to hide who he really was and what he really felt all the time. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, the brown-eyed teen dreading what the following week would entail, the other attempting to analyze the sterile white paint off the ceiling.

About when Hayner was contemplating jabbing the leader of the Disciplinary Committee in the stomach just to see if he'd react in an effort to quell his boredom, Fuu and Rai arrived with the best tool to avoid insanity, food. Finding that the medicine did nothing to quell his appetite for real food, he devoured two bagels in the space of a few minutes. When he nearly choked from inhaling his food and had to take a drink to clear his throat again, Seifer laughed genuinely. The tanned teen scowled, even if it was enjoyable to hear the man laugh without the mockery or sarcasm woven in, he hated unintentionally being the source of the mirth.

He shoved another one of the surprisingly tasty bagels down, this one blueberry, and was so absorbed in ignoring those ice-blue shards that he nearly jumped off the bed when his mother said, "I see you have a healthy appetite at least."

Swallowing quickly, his head whipped around to find her smiling in the doorway, Fuu and Rai off to the side to allow her passage. He smiled back, wiping the crumbs from the bready food off his face and standing, "Hey Mom, you got here fast."

"My office is only fifteen minutes away and someone canceled their session for this hour. How are you feeling?"

"Never better. I feel vaguely nauseous from the painkillers, woke up with a tube in my nose, and I'm not even wearing pants."

The bedridden older teen snorted loudly at the last part and his mother put a hand to her mouth to avoid laughing. She walked over and hugged him gently, aware of his cracked ribs, and he squeezed her back until it hurt. He knew how much he must have worried her, it further increased the tension in his gut that had nothing to do with the food. Even if none of this wasn't technically his fault, he'd managed to scare a lot of people he cared about, and it was tearing him up.

"I called Roxas and got Axel, apparently poor Roxas is still dead asleep, but Axel promised to tell him you woke up as soon as he does himself. The doctors said you'll be released tomorrow along with Seifer, they just need to keep you overnight to make sure nothing comes up, a safety precaution."

"Is Seifer really coming to stay with us?" The tiniest hint of a whine entered his voice and his mother caught it, eyes narrowing.

"He risked life and limb to save you twice, he's hurt from coming to help you, why shouldn't we help him out by giving him a place to stay where he only needs to climb ten stairs to get to bed instead of four flights? It's not like I'm telling you to marry him."

Right about then Hayner rather wished he had died, at least then he'd be spared the mortification he was currently experiencing. A quick glance at the other occupants revealed they were ignoring the conversation, though a raised light blond brow indicated differently for the well-built patient. Pretending like he wasn't turning a bright shade of red that probably clashed horribly with the bruising on his face, he gave his mother a look. She beamed back at him, a slightly evil glint in her eye. Yes, she was aware that she was making him feel incredibly awkward in front of the object of his quiet affection, and no, she didn't really care.

They sat down and talked a bit, both blonds prodding him for information on what had transpired before the scarred savior had arrived on the scene. Fuu and Rai left quietly to go to their morning classes and take Seifer's notes for him, since apparently they shared most of their classes. As he first began recounting the events of the night his memory was a little foggy, probably due to the blunt head trauma, but after a few well-worded prompts things fell into place easily in his mind.

He was just getting to the part when they'd punched him in cheek, the blow glancing off into his still off right eye when her watch went off. She frowned, knowing she had to get back to work but not wanting to leave quite yet. The sandy-blond waved her off, knowing she couldn't skip an appointment just to stick around with him. She gave him one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before leaving at a brisk pace.

Waiting to hear some offhanded comment about being a momma's boy or something to that effect, he was surprised when nothing of the sort issued forth from the other teen. Instead he was pinned with a measuring look. He met the steely gaze for a few drawn out seconds before the stronger skater's eyes closed and he flopped back on the pillows he'd been propping himself up on.

"Why don't you eat something? There are still bagels left, and I'm sure one of the nurses would be happy to get you something else if you don't want them."

"Since when did you care about my eating habits chicken-wuss?"

"Since when did you run like hell in the middle of the night to save some random kid you don't know very well?"

"I thought you actually listened occasionally when I talked, I apologize, let me repeat for the thousandth time: I protect this town. That includes its more pathetic inhabitants. Besides," he paused, pursing his lips a bit in thought before continuing, "you're not that bad. It's kind of cool to have you around. You and Roxas are the only ones around here other than me who're halfway decent at struggle, even if neither of you will ever be as good as me."

Brown irises disappeared in flashes beneath rapidly blinking eyelids as he tried to process the fact that Seifer had actually said something decent about him. Even if it was just because he was good at struggle, capable of beating the fighter every once and a while, it still made him feel slightly warm to finally receive a compliment (using the term loosely, this was Seifer Almasy after all) from his crush.

"Thanks, but really, you can't get better if you don't eat something."

"I don't feel like eating right now, that a good enough answer? I'm a big boy, I don't need my mommy telling me when it's time to eat."

"But-"

"Just fucking drop it."

Brows were creased angrily, apparently the other's famously small amount of patience had run out. Upon closer inspection the skinny skater noticed that the handsome bully's face was slightly drawn, fatigue and pain evident. The younger bit his lip, realizing he was harrying someone who probably wanted nothing better than to sleep through the agony he had to have been feeling. In a dramatic change of pace, this time he was the insensitive jerk in a situation that included the well-muscled male.

"Quit making that face, I swear you look like a fucking puppy when you do that. I'm not mad at you if that's what you think, stop being such a girl about everything, it ticks me off," the college student grumbled, watching him with one eye half-open.

"I am not being a girl!"

He scoffed, "I tell you to shut up for once and you look like your dog got shot, how is that not being an emotionally unstable chick?"

"I'm fucking sorry for feeling bad that I bothered you when you're in pain then! God you're so fucking infuriating, one minute you seem to be a halfway decent person and the next you're the same old jackass you always are! I'm out of here, we can talk when you decide to get that stick out of your ass."

Done exploding in his crush's face, he got up and stalked off, miraculously not falling over and making an idiot of himself. His ribs hurt a bit even through the haze of drugs after yelling like that and he resolved not to do so again for his own health. As he walked in to his room he noticed the vase of colorful tulips and greenhouse lilies on his bed stand. Wondering how he could have missed the burst of color in the otherwise maddeningly undecorated room, he wandered over to it. He smiled when he read the card and found that it was from his friends; Roxas, Pence, and Olette had signed it and wished him well.

Feeling a little pathetic that all it took to get him out of a terrible mood was a few flowers and the thought that his friends really cared, he collapsed ungracefully on his bed. Rolling over so he was on his back, he grabbed the remote attached to the bed and pressed the button for the TV, flipping through channels until he found one that was rerunning old cartoons, one of his guilty pleasures.

After a few minutes his conscience caught up with him and he realized he probably shouldn't have blown up like that. It was really only because he so wanted Seifer to actually be nice to him occasionally, and when it happened, the damnably attractive man would inevitably screw it up and start mocking him again. His frustration had finally built to a point where he just had to vent it somehow, why not on the source? It made sense, the bully probably deserved to be bitched out for his bad attitude, so why did Hayner feel so damn bad about it?

Promising himself he wouldn't go see the other until morning when they left just to get his point across, he adjusted his pillows and firmly nestled himself in the bed, happy to just sit around and watch TV until it was a sane time to sleep. After a while the cartoons switched to some stupid show about kids in high school that looked so completely generic he didn't even need to watch it to know what it would involve, and he switched over to a nature show. Apparently there was a marathon going on about crab fisherman from a place far away from Twilight Town. When someone, a real person, not an actor, died in the first fifteen minutes of the episode after falling into the ocean, he decided it was interesting enough to watch for the next few hours.

Around one he called a nurse to bring him some food and give him another shot of Demerol, the pain making it difficult to breathe, much less eat. She smiled brightly and he noticed that her eyes were just a few shades off Seifer's. He then hated himself for not even being able to keep the fighter off his mind for half a day. It bordered dangerously on obsession, if he was honest with himself. She came back with some spaghetti, a packet of carrots, some yogurt, a small container of chocolate ice cream and a mini-carton of two percent milk, as well as the requested shot.

Feeling suddenly grateful he didn't harbor a fear of needles, he thanked her as she left and began devouring his provided meal once the painkiller took effect. The food wasn't nearly as good as the bagels had been, but still edible. He finished the meal and eyed his milk dubiously, he honestly hated drinking any milk that wasn't whole because that was what he was raised on, anything less tasted like watery paste. Since he couldn't really be picky, he chugged it regardless of its lack of taste and texture.

Setting the tray the food had been situated on aside he turned back to the television mounted in the corner, discovering the subject matter had changed from crab fishing to a pride of lions that ruled over a grassland with a huge rock in the center. Finding it slow and uneventful, he channel surfed for a while, only stopping to watch one or two shows off any particular network before losing interest and moving on. He spent the rest of the day like that, skipping dinner because he wasn't hungry and finally deciding to try to sleep when the small clock on the wall read nine o'clock.

After an hour he discovered morosely that there was no possible way he'd manage to get to sleep in this sterile and empty environment, at least not alone. Cursing himself for failing to maintain a promise to himself again, he crept out of his room and slipped into Seifer's, hoping the injured man was already asleep, aiming to sleep in the marginally comfortable-looking chair in the corner until one of the nurses noticed him when they checked on the sleeping patients.

It took all his self-control not to gasp when he laid eyes on the serene form of the normally tense and angry teen. Not only was his face more relaxed than Hayner had ever seen it, but light from the moon was filtering through the open blinds and sliding over his features like quicksilver. The blankets had ridden down to his abs and the standard hospital-fare gown he wore did nothing to conceal the sloping curves of his hardened pectoral muscles, or the two to three inch scars on his left arm just above the elbow, presumably from the accident or the surgeries afterwards. The sleeping fighter appeared akin to a perfectly-built, scarred god, and the lithe blond felt himself shiver involuntarily, fighting the arousal he felt at the scene before him.

"Like what you see, chicken-wuss?"

His heart stopped in his chest for a second, then started up again with renewed fervor as he watched pale blue eyes open and observe him, completely alert. He just knew the other had been awake the whole time, feigning sleep, probably having been stirred by the sound of the door to the room opening and closing, no matter how quiet. Ears and face burning he stuttered, "I-I was just, um, I couldn't-"

"I have trouble sleeping in hospitals too, and I've had to do it a lot over the years, I know why you're here. Are you going to stand there changing colors or get over here?" He asked with a soft smirk, flipping the edge of the blankets down and moving over so the senior would have room to sleep next to him.

Wondering if he had indeed managed to fall asleep and was dreaming or if this was some sort of clever trick, he forced stiffened legs to move and walked over to the bed. Laying down as far away as possible from the strangely accommodating Disciplinary Committee leader, he hesitantly pulled the blankets over himself. Trying to weigh the nervousness he felt at being so close to the edge of the mattress and the repercussions of getting closer to the other original occupant of the bed, he noticed the college student watching him wearily.

"We're not grade school kids Hayner, I'm not gonna freak out and scream cooties if our shoulders touch, you can come closer. Assuming you're not afraid of me or something."

"Why would I be afraid of you?" The brown-eyed teen asked quietly as he shifted closer until their arms were indeed touching, reveling in the heat that radiated off the tall man.

"You're probably one of a handful of people who aren't. I'm a common thug, what reason would people have not to be terrified of me?"

The sandy-blond frowned, "You're not a thug at all, sure you fight, a lot, but you're almost always doing it to protect the citizens of the town. You, Fuu and Rai have helped take down a lot of the gangs here and clean up quite a bit of slime that used to thrive on the street. As far as I can tell you don't hurt people without reason, so as long as I don't go do something stupid I won't have any reason to fear you. And...I trust you."

The normally unreadable man stared at him with a mixture of surprise and grudging admiration, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"You're too trusting," a heavy pause, "but thanks."

"I'm not-" He began protesting softly before he was once again cut off by the larger male.

"Go to sleep Hayner. I'll scare off the nurses when they try to take you back to your own room, don't worry."

"How do you plan to manage that?"

"If you hadn't heard, I punched a doctor in the face a few days ago after he tried to tell me I couldn't check on you and take me back to my room, I'm in pain and unpredictable, or at least they think so. It won't be hard at all to get the bouncy twenty-somethings around here off your back."

The senior smiled a bit as he thought of Seifer frightening the young nurses, finding the image all too believable. The combination of the comforting presence of the man he silently longed for, painkillers, injuries and just simple fatigue dragged him down into unconsciousness within minutes.

The first thing he was aware of was a firm warmth next to him. Opting out of just repositioning and trying to get back to sleep in favor of discovering what it was, brown eyes opened to discover that not only was he on his back instead of his left side, which he normally slept on, but a slumbering blond was in the bed with him. Remembering that this was Seifer's room and that he'd come in here because he couldn't sleep in the distressingly empty room by himself. As he looked towards the window he could tell the older occupant of the bed must've made good on his promise to scare off the nurses, since he was still here and the blue sky indicated that it was morning.

His eyes slowly but surely traveled their way back to the only other person in the room, who might as well have been the only other person on Earth for all he really cared at the moment. Common sense and the necessity of survival was the only thing that was stopping him from taking the opportunity to rest his head on the slowly rising and falling chest at the moment. No matter how tempting it was, he knew his crush was a light sleeper and that the experience would probably only last a few moments before he was thrown bodily out of the bed. Being slammed into the ground was not on his list of things to do today.

Closing his eyes, he ignored the constant nagging pain in his chest every time he took a breath and dozed, unable to get back to sleep. It had only been roughly fifteen minutes since he'd awoken when the sleeping man's breathing changed next to him, getting sharper and a bit faster. Watching the disturbed man with rapt interest, Hayner noticed the way he'd gotten suddenly tense and right hand alternately fisted in the sheet and relaxed. A deep frown marred his until then peaceful features, and before the smaller skater knew what was going on, the injured man sat bolt upright, panting heavily. A small squeak of shock escaped the senior's still slightly swollen lips, bringing blue eyes down on him.

"What're you-" he paused, sudden understanding crossing his face, "Never mind."

"Have a nightmare, Seifer?"

"No, just a bad dream. I haven't had a nightmare in years. The term implies that whatever you dreamed about actually frightened you."

"You really work hard at maintaining your tough guy image, don't you ever get tired of pretending you're a hardass?"

"Oh, and you're one to talk."

"At least I don't constantly refuse to talk about things when they bother me. I have enough common sense to know that it does no good to keep things bottled up."

"And that's why you won't tell me who the guy you've been in love with for so long is, right? Because you're so good at talking your little problems out." The fighter returned, irritation entering his voice as he glared at the senior. He smirked triumphantly when the shorter boy broke eye contact.

"I assume Roxas knows, since I'm almost certain that kid knows your shoe size and blood type."

"We're not attached at the hip idiot, he doesn't know everything about me. Even if he did know who the guy was, he'd never tell you."

"What's with all the secrecy anyways? I'm not going to hunt him down and tell him, I'm not that determined to make your life hell."

"Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?" The prodded snapped, getting off of the warm mattress just to get away from the source of all his problems. Sitting here talking to someone he'd wanted for so long and knowing he'd never have them was just so. Fucking. Hard. It made him want to beat the daylights out of some poor unsuspecting inanimate object. When he jerked into a standing position his body protested, vision clouding as he lost his balance. Expecting to hit the floor on his back as he fell, he was pleasantly surprised when a warm arm shot out to stop him.

Blinking rapidly until his swimming sight returned to normal, he was tugged roughly back towards the one who'd caught him, back meeting muscular chest. Feeling utterly mortified, he didn't even deign to thank Seifer, wanting nothing more than to go home, bury himself in his blankets and just never come out again.

"Next time I won't catch you."

The sandy-haired teen was just about to retort when a knock at the door interrupted him and his mother came in carrying two plastic bags with what appeared to be clothes in them. A doctor that, sure enough, had a faded black eye followed her. The larger of the two on the bed pulled away from his companion, a lazy greeting supplied to acknowledge them.

"I see you two are getting along well," the blond woman commented, her son picking up the hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Famously. Please tell me I can leave now? I'm tired of the shitty food here and I've managed to make all the hot nurses afraid of me."

"Yes, it probably didn't help that you told them if they tried to wake Hayner you'd hit them. Not feeling very chivalrous last night, were we?" The graying doctor drawled, humor glittering in his bluish green eyes.

"Hey, it's their fault for thinking I was serious," he defended.

"Since you were obviously kidding the first time you said that when you punched me immediately after, right? I can't imagine why they would think you're dangerous."

Actually looking remotely sheepish for a moment, the apparently very dangerous bully apologized.

"Don't worry about it, for the seventh time. How's your leg doing?"

"Seems to be healing well, not giving me much trouble."

"You'll have to walk on crutches for at least a the next five days before you even think about putting weight on it. I suggest being careful when you start walking unaided on the third day like I know you will. Try to stay off your feet as much as possible. And Hayner, the break in your arm was pretty clean, so it'll probably only take the normal six weeks to heal, but you'll have to be gentle with it. No strong impacts, so it'll be a while before I suggest participating in struggle. Your ribs will take a while to heal, try to avoid jarring them at all to speed their mending.

"Other than that common sense applies, don't skip meals and drink plenty of fluids. Don't be surprised if one or both of you falls victim to a summer cold or flu, your bodies are working overtime trying to patch themselves up and as such are more susceptible to illness. I'll have one of the nurses get some final readings on you, but other than that you're good to leave. Try not to come back either."

Once he left Hayner's mother smiled and walked over, handing them each a bag. To her son's immense joy, they contained a set of each blond's clothes, shoes in the bottom.

"If you're quick you can get changed before the nurse gets here, I'll guard the door for you," she said with a wink. Mere seconds after she finished the youngest disappeared into the bathroom, leading to two pairs of raised blond eyebrows before they got to their respective tasks.

Inside the bathroom, he smiled to himself at the fact that the shirt she'd brought him was his favorite, the one he'd stuffed in between his mattresses. At some point in the days he'd be laying unconscious she must have found it and sewn it. Although it was somewhat visible that it had been mended, he didn't really give a damn. He'd had it for years, he just loved it too much to get rid of it no matter how threadbare it had become.

Ripping off the damnable piece of fabric they deemed clothing and tossing it to the floor, he yanked on a pair of clean blue boxers, careful to avoid moving his left arm too much. Getting his shirt on was a bit more difficult, moving his arm in certain ways sent a jolt of electrifying pain along his nerves strong enough to make his legs weak.

Getting on the loose pair of black jeans was probably the hardest, having to work with only one hand, but he managed, helped along by the sudden realization that the one dressing in the room was probably finding it significantly harder to get his pants on than Hayner was, seeing as he had to avoid a healing bullet wound while doing so. Once finished, he stopped to assess himself in the mirror, wincing at the purplish bruising around his eye and nose. It really didn't help to know Seifer would see him like this for the next week.

He called through the door to make sure he didn't accidentally walk in on a half-naked and most likely very irate scarred teen (it was the incredibly awkwardness he wanted to avoid, not the view). Getting a gruff response, he opened the door only to find the bully was still shirtless, currently snatching up his favorite blue midriff from it's resting place on the bed beside him.

Turning his head to the side, both so he wouldn't stare and to hide the redness he knew was gathering on his features, he discreetly observed the way heavy, compact muscle worked to pull the revealing garment over his head. Blue eyes flicked to him as faintly scarred chest disappeared, the slight skater wondering if the dressing man knew he'd been watching.

"I see your shirt's been fixed. Why won't you get rid of that old thing? You've been wearing it to almost every struggle match since I can remember."

Because he'd worn it to his first struggle, and that was the first time he'd really met the leader of the self-proclaimed Twilight Disciplinary Committee.

"I just like it, okay? What about you? You're always wearing that shirt and those boots, I can't imagine they've fit you for this long without some letting out. Why bother?"

"My mother was a seamstress, she made this shirt for me a long time ago, my dad got me these boots the first time we went hunting, though I guess a city boy like you wouldn't understand that," he returned, voice a low growl. Obviously Hayner had hit a soft spot.

"I get it, I just wanted to know why you're bitching at me about something when you do the same thing yourself."

"I don't bitch, that's something pipsqueaks like you do when they don't get what they want. I was just asking a simple question, you're the one who decided to get pissy."

The ease with which he reversed the blame for the less than pleasant exchange startled the senior, who for an instant was almost sorry for making his answer nastier than it needed to be. The arrogant man was better with his words than he let on, apparently. Before things could go further in any direction, the nurse arrived and the conversation was effectively ended. After being put through the various procedures such as having their temperature taken one last time, they left, the tall blond walking with crutches like it was second nature. They were offered a ride to their house by one of the vehicles designated to take non-critical patients to and from the hospital, which they took to save him the exhausting twenty minute walk.

All of the icy blond's important personal effects and a suitcase of his clothes had already been moved into the guest room by the woman of the house. She took the day off work to stay around home and make sure they were able to work cohesively enough they wouldn't kill each other when she left. Hayner was incredibly surprised to find that the injured male was actually incredibly useful around the house, despite his marginally limited mobility. Helping do dishes, laundry, and even setting the table for dinner. The sandy-blond wondered who'd replaced his crush with someone who had halfway decent manners when the entire day the college student didn't refer to the intelligent blond woman with anything less than a respectful "Mrs. Dincht."

Finding it a bit silly that he imagined the fighter as being lazy and useless as far as keeping things tidy in a household since the man had been living on his own for quite some time, it was still frightening to see an entirely different side of the mocking, derisive, ice-eyed teen he'd come to know and love. He liked it.

Looking at the clock and wondering why in hell he woke up suddenly at one fifty-two in the morning, he was about to roll over and get back to sleep when the strong bully got his answer in the form of sounds of thrashing and his name being called in a desperate but distant moan. The younger boy in the room next to his was having a nightmare, and it involved him somehow. Hoping things would work themselves out without his help, he pulled the thin summer blankets up around himself and closed his eyes again. A loud thud and a whimper proved to be all it took to guilt him into alertness.

Cursing his caring nature, he threw the covers back, ignored his contacts and limped out of his room clad in nothing but black boxers, skipping the crutches because it was far too dark to attempt to navigate them around a room he had no familiarity with. Knocking on the door and getting nothing but a quiet whine in reply, he opened it, feeling a small spark of worry that the seemingly fragile tanned teen might have worsened his injuries when he fell out of bed. The foreboding feeling in his gut only increased when his somewhat blurry vision picked out the small form of Hayner curled on the floor, mired in his sheets.

"Hayner? Are you okay?"

Finally getting a verbal answer in the form of a shaky and broken affirmative that he didn't believe for a second, he moved jerkily over to the huddled form and knelt next to it, eyes scanning for damage. The erratic breathing and tightly closed eyes seemed to have nothing to do with physical pain, so whatever he was freaking out over was purely psychological. Troubled by this conclusion, since to his knowledge the eighteen year-old didn't breakdown over something as simple and easy to brush off as a bad dream, he gently but firmly manipulated the weaker teen out of his earlier position, wrestling the dark sheets wrapped around him.

Deciding the only course of action that would allow him to sleep without feeling guilty was to comfort the distressed senior until he regained some form of mental stability, the normally detached male pulled the quaking mass into his lap, resting a mussed blond head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around the other's small, exposed waist.

"Come on chicken-wuss, I know you're better than to be done in by a dream. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened that was so god-awful."

Obeying numbly, he inhaled, breath catching with his violent shivering, "You died."

"What?" Probably not the brightest thing to say, but it was all he could think of when his sleep-slowed mind attempted and failed to process how him dying in a dream equated to the always outwardly tough boy shaking like it was ten degrees and getting intimate with the carpet.

"The fight, when he was going to shoot you again, I wasn't able to get up this time, something was holding me down no matter how hard I fought. He fired, you failed to dodge."

The elaboration of the situation did little to aid his mind's stumbling to find reasons for how a nightmare that was so obviously untrue managed to get the other into such a state. Guessing it must have been how close the dream had been to reality, if the brown-eyed male hadn't been able to bite the now in-custody amateur gunman, it was entirely likely that Seifer could have died. Still, it didn't make sense that the sandy-haired senior would get into such a tizzy over someone who was at best his rival.

"I'm right here, it was just a dream. Calm down Hayner, you're scaring me."

Nodding slightly he began to regulate his breathing manually to even it out, "Just give me a sec, okay?"

Feeling terribly nostalgic of a Friday over a week ago, he sighed and ran stiff fingers through hair that was soft without the usual gel to harden it. Continuing his ministrations until the light male in his lap had calmed down, he decided he'd see if he couldn't just sleep here for the night; he really didn't want to get up and hobble all the way back to his own room.

"I'm alright now, thanks for that, Seifer."

"If you're really appreciative, you'll let me sleep here so I don't have to go all the way back on my injured leg."

Large chocolate eyes rolled, "Yeah fine, you let me sleep in your bed, might as well return the favor."

"I was actually planning on sleeping on the floor," the scarred man offered.

"No, no one's sleeping on the floor. I'd feel like a complete asshole whether it was your choice or not."

"Fine, suit yourself."

He levered himself up with his favorite blond annoyance balanced in one arm, said annoyance giving an indignant yelp at being carried. Smirking, Seifer sat on the edge of the bed, setting his passenger down and dragging himself by the arm over to the side of the mattress that rested against the leftmost wall of the room. Conveniently enough there were two pillows on the bed already, probably because Roxas stayed over so much, so the older blond adjusted it slightly before settling down, laying on his back like he always did.

His new sleeping companion for the night eyed him once warily before grabbing the tangled blankets and pulling them back onto the bed but leaving them down at the edge. Two people on the same small mattress would generate plenty of heat to keep them warm on the chilly summer night. Laying down on his right side with his arms curled on his chest, he nestled his head back into the still vaguely warm indent in the pillow.

"Can I ask you something? It's been bothering me for a few days now."

"Go ahead, though I reserve the right not to answer or smack you if it's something stupid."

"The accident...Did your parents die?"

It was the last thing he expected to come out of those swollen lips, and he paused a little too long before replying, the slight teen shrinking a bit unto himself and apologizing for asking.

"No, it doesn't bother me that you asked, you just surprised me. I didn't think you were bright enough to put two and two together. Yeah, both my parents died in the accident, my mom was dead on the scene and my father died an hour afterwards from his injuries. I was the only one in the car who survived. My leg and arm were smashed, my lungs were punctured and most of my ribs were cracked or broken. The car rolled seven times from what they told me. He hit us going eighty on the passenger's side where my mom was, I was behind my dad. A piece of the vehicle slashed me across the face when I smashed into it, my vision's been fucked up ever since, I wear contacts to correct the problem."

"The doctor said you had to undergo surgeries too."

"I don't even remember how many times I visited the hospital during that period, but my arm and leg had been shattered into about a dozen pieces each, they had to perform pretty extensive operations to piece them back together. You can probably see the scars on my arm just above the elbow and the ones on the middle of my thigh even with the lack of light. Those aren't even from the incident itself, they're from the surgeries. That's why I always lead with my right, my left arm is still only operating at about eighty percent of its potential because of the scarred tissue and damage."

Eyes traveling to the specified locations, he reexamined the first set he'd seen last night, three precise places of entry clustered in the same general area, different sides of the arm and angles, probably from three separate procedures. Feeling awkward as he looked downwards toward the temptingly exposed thigh even though he'd received permission to do so, he saw a series of four lines arranged similarly to those on his arm. He shuddered to think how it must have been to go through so many different surgeries when he was only thirteen or fourteen years old. Especially right after losing your parents.

"What about the other guy, did he survive?"

"Sort of. He lost his legs and was confined to a wheelchair the rest of his life, and he sustained a lot of injury. My remaining family sued him for all the pain he'd caused, that's how I managed to live by myself in my own apartment when I moved here freshman year. I lived with relatives in the town I lived in for a while, but every time I so much as heard the squeal of tires on pavement I'd be reduced to a pathetic shaking heap on the ground, the flashbacks were so bad. Twilight Town hadn't had a normal car in decades ever since they passed a law against them for whatever reason-"

"Mom said it was because the roads in this town are so damn confusing and poorly thought out no one could get anywhere, there were too many accidents, too many kids got hit running around. So they just got rid of any cars other than emergency response and those necessary to get those who can't walk well around."

"Alright, thanks. But that's the reason I moved here, I wouldn't have to deal with constant reminders of what happened and I could get on with my life. I attended summer school to make up for the time I'd lost over the recovery period. Then of course I met Rai and Fuu and your little band of misfits."

"We're not misfits!"

"What ever you say. The guy died a few months ago. I never once felt bad that my family ruined his financial life and that he lived in debt the rest of his years. I thought he deserved it, he took everything from me. Does that make me a bad person?"

"If you had hunted him down and murdered him you might be a bad person, but no, I think under the circumstances anyone would feel that way. Even if you're a complete dickhead most of the time, I'm still of the opinion that you're a good person under all the arrogance and coldness you hide it behind."

"Great, the chicken-wuss thinks I'm a good person. Thanks, now I have to go rearrange my entire being. Anyways, was that all you wanted to know?"

"Yeah. Thanks for telling me."

"No, don't say thanks, answer my question in return. I'm not going to spill my guts and not receive any information in return."

"Fine, I'll consider it. What is it?"

"Since you freak out and attempt to kill yourself when I ask about who you like, I'm just going to ask why, if he's such an oblivious moron that he doesn't notice you've been in love with him for ages, why do you still like him?"

"He's also an insufferable asshole, I'm sure you two would get along great," Hayner added, steeling himself for reasons unknown to the other male. "But, I think half the shit he says is a lie, he doesn't mean any of the nasty stuff he says. It's all an act to maintain an image. In some ways we're really similar, we both have a very small group of close friends, we have similar interests, and to some extent I think he's the only person in the world who could ever really understand me."

"Even more than Roxas?" The unknowing subject of the conversation asked quietly, thoughtful. Getting a nod in reply, he closed his eyes for a second before speaking, "At least this isn't some pathetic puppy love crush. It seems like you actually know what the hell you're doing. I'm actually shocked. This guy also does seem to be the kind of person I'd get along with."

Sighing and thinking that the blue-eyed blond had no idea how right he was, he ended the conversation before anything revealing was let slip, "'Night Seifer."

"Goodnight. Try to actually sleep well this time, I don't feel like being punched awake by someone I can't hit back."

He closed his eyes and evened his breathing slowly. Feigning sleep at the moment, he listened carefully to the skater beside him. Perhaps to ward off future nightmares by physically affirming that the supposedly unconscious man was indeed fine and right here, Hayner shifted until his partially bent knees and his crossed arms were touching the other.

Half an hour later the tired self-appointed guardian of Twilight Town drew his arm away momentarily to place it on his charge's back, carefully moving the peacefully (finally) slumbering senior towards him until they were flush against each other. The dark-eyed boy remained blissfully oblivious, though he did mumble something unintelligible and snuggle closer, pillowing his head on the juncture between the watching man's shoulder and chest. Raising a brow, he began mulling over why it seemed like the person the vulnerable-looking senior had described sounded so suspiciously like him. Finally giving it up, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

-1 As Mrs. Dincht ascended the stairs to wake the two boys under her care, she instantly grew suspicious as her watery-blue eyes landed on the door to the guest room just beyond Hayner's. It was open, and when she had come up to say goodnight last night Seifer had closed it. Glancing in to investigate, she found mangled sheets and crutches, but no sign of the powerful blond anywhere, and it wasn't as if he was very hard to miss. Turning back, she grabbed the brass knob of her son's room and twisted it, opening the door silently.

Covering her mouth to hide the bright grin, she observed the pair in the early morning light, the smaller boy firmly snuggled against his crush. Lips parted as breath ghosted in and out of them, his still-discolored face looked more peaceful than she'd seen it in weeks. Beside him the bully and protector was the image of solidity. His light blond brows were furrowed almost thoughtfully, and his jaw was rigid. One strong arm wrapped around a thin shoulder to hook back on the senior's exposed hip, holding them to one another.

Maybe things weren't as hopeless as her little boy thought after all, she mused as she closed the door again. She'd lost all resolve to wake them early before she left for work, they were just too cute to disturb. Scribbling a quick note telling them things that were necessary such as dishes and for them to attempt not to break anything, she made some quick eggs for herself and set out into the fresh morning.

Returning to consciousness and the almost blinding haze of pain it assaulted him with was almost never something he enjoyed, but today was an exception. Remaining still for now so that he didn't disturb the still sleeping male that clung to him, he watched for the shift in features that would signify waking. He really couldn't think of anything more entertaining than seeing Hayner's reaction when he came to on Seifer's chest. For some reason, he was also curious to find out what that reaction would be, whether the mussed blond would be embarrassed, meaning he didn't mind it, or if he would be repulsed by the older man's presence so close to him.

A little jerk in his chest alerted him that he actually cared which one it was, and that he really didn't want it to be the latter. The warm weight over his heart was comforting in a way it probably shouldn't have been. It made him wonder what it meant that he'd somehow gone from thinking of Hayner as a tough pipsqueak and a decent struggler to finding it somewhat enjoyable to sleep with him nestled in the contours of his well-muscled body. Even more terrifying was the thought that he wouldn't mind doing this every night if it kept the brown-eyed teen from turning into a shaking wreck on the floor again.

Shaking his head in an endeavor to rid himself of thoughts that were inappropriately deep for it being just a little past nine in the morning. Roused by the movement, apparently a fairly light sleeper as well, the senior on his side opened sleepy chocolate eyes. A moment of confusion was etched on his face before his drowsy mind put the pieces together. Turning a rather adorable shade of pink he tensed, looking into the ice blue eyes of the person he was laying on.

"Morning Seifer. I, uh, don't really know how this happened," an uncomfortable smile on his face as he slowly realized the older teen's arm was around him.

"I've read in a few places that often having other people you feel safe with in close proximity helps to ward off nightmares. It was worth a shot to not have you attempting to kill me in your sleep," it was only a small lie, he just skipped the part where he actually got a sense of peace out of the nearness. At least he was admitted it had been him to pull the volatile boy close. Large eyes stared at him with a mix of wariness and amazement.

"Don't look at me like that. Just because I was nice this once doesn't mean it's ever going to happen again. And next time I am not coming to help you when you have some stupid nightmare," Seifer really hoped if he said that to himself enough, he'd actually begin to believe it.

"You don't have to pretend to be such an ass all the time you know," the weaker boy drawled with a scowl. He got up when he felt the warmth of the arm on his back leave suddenly as the appendage was withdrawn.

Following him, the blue-eyed fighter rose carefully and ruffled his soft hair, glancing back at his temporary companion, who was busying himself finding clothes for today. Suddenly discovering that clothes were probably advisable he limped out the door, managing to avoid hurting his injured leg much by hopping comically until his hand found a surface to lean on. Much to his credit, Hayner didn't laugh, instead offering to help. Even if the offer was immediately refused, the gesture was somewhat appreciated.

Finding his way back to the room that was for the moment his, he shut and locked the door before sitting in front of the suitcase of clothing his hostess had gathered for him while he was stuck in that damnable hospital. He changed his boxers and threw the dirty pair into the basket in the corner. Rummaging through the large black case, he found a black shirt he often wore to fights due to the fact that bloodstains became nearly invisible on it. It had a small red insignia of a sword that vaguely resembled a cross where the left breast pocket would have been.

Pulling it on, he moved onto his current most dreaded article of clothing, pants. Not only was it hard to avoid getting the pant leg caught on the wrapping of his injury, but maneuvering the limb to actually get them on was also overly difficult and painful. Sitting on the edge of the messy bed to keep the weight off the weakened leg, he sucked in a breath and held it while pulling on the loose jeans. Endeavor completed, he released the pent air in a sigh, put his contacts in and got back up.

Entirely unready to face the day, he balanced on his crutches and pulled open the door, kicking it a little harder than necessary to get it out of his way. A not quite loud smack as it hit the wall drew the waiting and dressed senior's eyes his way. In a deep green shirt and khaki shorts that stopped just below his knees, the eighteen year-old looked like the classic high school student who just doesn't give a damn about the way he looks. His hair still stuck up in spikes that curled at the ends, though a few in the back hung down in odd tufts from the lack of gel.

"How did you manage to train your hair to naturally defy gravity? Some sort of strange metrosexual magic?"

Sneering in disgust, the younger teen turned and walked away down the stairs, throwing over his shoulder, "Metrosexual magic wouldn't really apply to me, the term refers to a straight male that cares about appearances. I am neither straight nor do I give a fuck what I look like, thank you very much. I just happen to like doing my hair a certain way and spending more time on it than the five seconds most guys do, call it an idiosyncrasy."

Curiosity sparked within the bully, wondering when the idiot got such a vocabulary. He barely knew what the last word meant, having read it in a book for his college English class and guessing it meant something like a quirk. Sliding down the banister with his crutches in hand once all pansy-shaped obstacles were out of the way, he turned and followed aforementioned potential obstacle into the kitchen.

The senior was looking over a note presumably left by his mother, mumbling that they were supposed to try not to break anything, which was a laughable request. With two injured teenagers in the house, something was bound to be knocked over at some point.

"Hey, at what point did lightning strike, causing you to gain a basic grasp of English?" He asked, meticulously wording it to be an insult.

"I've always been a straight-A student in language arts, no clue what the hell you're talking about. Maybe if you'd get your head out of your ass, you'd notice that I'm not quite as stupid as you constantly make me out to be."

"So, you plan to major in English in college then?"

A hum of agreement as cereal was obtained from a cupboard, set on the table, then followed by milk and two bowls.

"What do you want to be?" The college student prodded as he sat down and pulled one of the bowls over to himself.

"Not sure yet, probably something that involves analyzing text. As nerdy as that sounds, it's something I enjoy doing and do well. What about you?"

"Expert on history, it's something that interest me. Back when disputes were solved with swords and magic. Knights, sorceresses, that sort of thing."

"All non-medical magic was banned hundreds of years ago, and even now there's almost no one that has the ability to use any form of magic. But, potions and things like that, aren't those a lasting relic of those times?"

"The recipes and such, yeah. Most people use modern medicine these days, since potions could have such a wide array of nasty effects including addiction that leaves the user comatose until it wears off. But in emergency situations when there's nothing else around, they're the best thing available since they use the bodies' own healing ability and just stimulate it. That's why most every first-aid kit you'll find will have a Hi-potion or two in it.

"As far as magic, there are only a handful who can use strong magic, though most people with an affinity for nature can learn the most basic healing spell and perhaps an elemental spell if they work at it. Fuu can, actually. She's learned to make gusts of wind strong enough to knock someone over and do a little healing, though she has to be in the right state of mind to do it. A girl I knew and went out with before I left my hometown was able to perform strong spells even at a fairly young age, though she hadn't fully awakened. I dumped her after about a week, she was pretty but a complete idiot. Clingy too," he added just before shoving a spoonful of corn puff cereal in his mouth, having poured it and the milk as he spoke.

"So, is that why the symbol on your shirt vaguely resembles a stylized Templar cross, because you're such a fan of history? But, if it's on a black mantle it represents a sergeant, whom is lower than a knight, right?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you aren't quite as dumb as a rock if you know about them, and yeah, the black is intentional. Congrats, you've moved up a notch in my opinion, you're now at notch one. Yeah, I really admire them. They were sorceress knights for the sorceresses allied with good, which warred with those who weren't. They fought until death, or the flags of the Templars, the Knights Hospitaller, and the Teutonic Knights fell, it was considered the greatest glory to die for their ideals.

"The combatants were the among the most elite fighters. There are still modern day remnants of the Orders, they watch for emerging sorceresses and make sure they don't fall into the wrong hands."

Head titled to the side, the slighter teen eyed him calculatingly, as if reassessing his preformed ideas about the fighter. Smirking at the fact that he could surprise his friend (though he'd never admit out loud that he viewed Hayner as such, intentionally anyways, the first time on the phone didn't count) with his knowledge at such an early time in the morning, he returned to eating, pleased with himself.

"Why black instead of white if you admire the knights so much?" The other male repeated after a pause.

"Because I'm not quite so pretentious as to imply that I'm of knightly birth. I may be confident, but not I'm not pompous."

"Learn new things every day," the dark-eyed teen muttered under his breath as he ate more of his breakfast. The blue-eyed man snorted but didn't comment since hunger had finally managed to overtake his want to talk. They had just finished and the more mobile of them was putting their dishes in the sink when the doorbell rang. Twin looks of confusion appeared on their faces before the sandy-haired skater made his way over to the living room, separated from the hallway by the stairs.

His older company got up and trailed after him, just in case the visitor was less than friendly and there was ass kicking to be delivered. If he was going to cross half a town at a sprint in the middle of the night and get shot to protect Hayner, he'd be damned if he'd let the boy get beaten up by some random tough looking for Seifer when he was just in the next room. The person at the door did indeed launch themselves at the injured senior, but it was to capture him in a low hug that avoided his cracked ribs with the utmost care, face buried in his left shoulder.

"Roxas?! What the hell are you doing here, don't tell me you're skipping school just to see me?" The assaulted spluttered, having the sense to wrap his arms around the marginally shorter senior.

He was still panting, if the fighter had to guess he'd run all the way here when his matchstick of a boyfriend told him the news. Refusing to release his best friend from their warm embrace, he rested his chin on a tanned shoulder so he could speak, cerulean eyes open.

"No, I know you'd totally kick my ass if I skipped again. We had a bomb threat during school just a half hour ago from a pay phone, and you know how seriously they take those nowadays. They cancelled school for the rest of the day, I came as soon as Axel told me when he came to pick me up. I was so fucking worried man, I wish this had never happened."

"I know, I brought your flowers home. Thanks a lot for staying with me, I really do appreciate it. Just don't stay awake watching me until you pass out next time, okay?"

Startlingly blue eyes narrowed dangerously and he pulled back, grasping his friend by the shoulders and leveling the darker blond with a meaningful stare, "No next times. Ever. Got that?"

"Got it, I'll do my best not to have the shit knocked out of me by random classmates."

A heaving Axel burdened with what appeared to be the moody blond's backpack came into view through the open doorway, finally stopping to rest his hands on his knees and catch his breath. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, he haltingly asked his boyfriend how he could possibly move so fast on those short legs. Once normal coloration had returned to his face, he put on one of his patented Axel smiles and walked into the house around the cute blond biomass.

Midway through dumping the unwanted bag on the couch, he noticed the scarred blond hanging back in the entrance to the hallway from the living room, crimson eyebrows raised questioningly. Roxas followed his gaze, canting his head oddly when he laid eyes on the last person he'd expect to see in this particular house.

"Hey, Hayner, why is Seifer here?"

"Oh, right. He's staying with us because his apartment is on the fifth floor and I owe him. Surprisingly, he is indeed capable of not being an asshat some of the time."

"Well, in that case, I'll stick around. As long as you don't mind if I crash here for the night?" The spiky-haired blond asked with a hopeful smile. He knew how easy it was to guilt his long-time friend and fellow skater, he wouldn't be turned down if he really looked like he wanted something. It was strange how someone known to employ the puppy-dog eyes to when necessary could be so quickly walked over by his closest companion.

"Yeah, it's fine. We can share my room as usual."

"You sure Hayner? When your mom gets home there will be four blonds in a single household, something might explode." Patina eyes gleamed with humor, only brightening when he was shot a glare from Roxas.

"Shut up dumbass. The only reason anything would explode is if we let you stay, you friggin' pyro."

"I'm hurt. I thought you knew how good of a boy I've been lately. Really, I've totally gotten off my arson kick for good."

"Which is why you lit the principal's pink flamingo lawn ornaments on fire just last week," the only permanent resident of the house there returned flatly.

Smirking at having been caught in a blatant lie, the redhead shrugged dramatically.

"I can't help it if they're so ugly they practically invite me to mutilate them. Seriously, they looked twice as good that way!"

Chocolate eyes rolled, ever tolerant of the blond's coworker and his fire-related antics. Though, Seifer had to admit, they really did look less tacky all melted and twisted. Kind of an abstract form of art. The principal didn't agree with him apparently, since there was a fifty dollar reward for information leading to the capture of the "dangerous and unpredictable" culprit. He guessed hanging around Axel meant things stayed interesting.

"So you're the guy who did that? Have to hand it to you, you didn't do a half bad job on those ass-ugly things. Pretty impressive the way you molded that one bird's neck into a wave."

"Oh, that was actually Demyx, my friend. He's more the water type. But, don't tell Zexy that his boyfriend is a delinquent, he'd freak out."

"I've seen Zex freak before, it ain't pretty," the farthest teen agreed.

"Well, if you two are all set up for your little play date, I'll be heading on to work. You're damn lucky I offered to take over your shift today Roxie, I expect sex for this later."

"You expect sex all the time Axel, no matter what."

"You've got a point, shorty. I just can't come up with something that's as good to ask for," he explained as he leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his obsession-turned-lover's pink lips. Casting one more smile over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed behind him, he disappeared to begin the long trek to the pizza place he worked at.

"Well, if you can manage to remove yourselves from each other, there's a list of things that we need to do, and I'll be damned if I'm going to do them all myself," he barked, then added with a hard look at the thinner teen, "Hayner, take some painkillers, you're going to pass out if you don't start breathing deeper. I don't need a half-dead high school student on my hands again."

Even though it was likely the injured skater was only trying to be sensitive by not popping pills in front of him, he really didn't feel up to dealing with another impromptu visit to the hospital because the pain made it too hard for his charge to fully inflate his lungs. The two high school attendees broke apart instantly, and it appeared to the fighter as if the invisible force that had been holding them together suddenly lifted. The stronger of the two eighteen year-olds went straight to the list and began doing the dishes, something he must have done fairly often as evidenced by the fact that he knew where everything was and where it went.

"Seifer, you mind weeding the flowerbeds? It's one of the things mom wants us to do, and it's something you can do while sitting down. If you feel up to it of course," the blond in the cast asked after swallowing the provided drugs with an expression of extreme distaste.

It was kind of cute how he talked too much when he was nervous, the bully thought to himself as he nodded and took in the shifting boy's instructions. He was eagerly handed a large black trash bag to put the weeds in so he'd be able to transfer them to the compost pile next to the Dincht's shed in the backyard. Even though it had been made clear that he didn't have to do any work while staying at the house, he'd always adamantly refused to be a freeloader. It was always other people who owed him favors, not the other way around, and he liked it that way.

Feeling reminiscent of the days when he'd help tend his mother's flower beds, he plopped down in front of the large one in front, to the right of the door when facing the white house. Due to some rain two days earlier, the ground was still moist under the cedar mulch and the various weeds pulled out easily.

Twenty minutes later he was about halfway done removing the dandelions and such from around the crimson lilies that were at the very end of the large bed when something wet exploded on his head. Starting at the freezing cold moisture, his hand jerked up to his hair, pulling away a piece of rubbery pink debris. A water balloon. A fucking water balloon. Artic eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed the general vicinity for the source of the soggy projectile. And there, behind a white picket fence (if that wasn't cliché enough to be a crime, he didn't know what was) was a kid who looked to be about preschool age giggling with another of the damnable throwing weapons in his chubby palm.

Curses escaped him as the next one drenched his chest, followed almost immediately by a second that fell short and landed on his left leg. Glaring at the laughing boy and wishing there weren't laws against smacking kids who threw shit at their neighbors, he stood awkwardly and snatched his crutches up. Stalking back inside, he growled that he was taking a shower and if someone wanted to run the risk of getting soaked they could attempt to finish his job. The water and the sixty degree morning temperature had managed to rob him of most of his warmth. He could give a fuck if he was being mean, it was Hayner's fault for not warning him their neighbor had a brat with a death wish and access to water balloons.

Grabbing the saran wrap from the place he'd spied it on top of the refrigerator, he left them in the kitchen with dumbfounded expressions. Once inside the bathroom he shut and locked the door. Sitting on the edge of the bath tub, he slowly eased off his damp pants and peeled off his shirt. Once he was done removing the clothes he'd just put on a little over an hour ago, he cautiously undid the bandages around his stitched wound until he got to the thinner ones underneath. He wrapped them in a decent amount of the plastic he'd brought with him to keep the area dry. It was a trick he'd learned over the period of surgery after surgery, during which time he'd had to keep the site of incision from getting wet because the doctors told him to.

He didn't remember the reasoning nor particularly cared what it had been, he just did whatever it took to make sure he got back into fighting form as quickly as possible,. Climbing into the shower with only a little bit of difficulty, he turned on the water and impatiently waited for it to warm up. He really hated the cold, always had. Being cold and wet was twice as bad. He'd needed a shower anyways.

Finally feeling the stream of water warming, he let it bleed the cold from him gradually before washing his hair. Finding it terribly strange that he was using someone else's shampoo, he scrubbed his mildly greasy hair until bits of lather came off it. Rinsing it under the exceedingly hot spray, he massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Finding it little more than a distraction compared to the always vivid pain in his leg, he cracked his neck a few times.

Whether the exercise actually helped or not was up for speculation, but the natural painkillers it released were enough to soothe the pain for a little while. That was good enough for him. He moved so the jet of water was behind him as he ran soap-slathered hands over his body absentmindedly. Smiling to himself as he imagined how hard it was going to be for his reluctant housemate to shower with a cast and broken ribs, he slid back under the gentle gush of liquid.

The wet blond ran a small bit of conditioner through his hair so that it wouldn't be ungodly tangled in the morning (he wished he knew how it snarled when he didn't ever move in his sleep) before letting the water run over his hair once more and shutting it off. Pulling a towel off the rack next to the shower he dried himself with practiced speed before tying it around his waist. Once the temporary plastic covering was removed from the inner binding, he wrapped the heavier outer bandaging back on, using the metal clasp to secure it.

Easing onto his crutches he glanced into a mirror to see his own (incredibly sexy) face looking back at him, his hair looking decent again. Grabbing his clothes in one hand and opening the door with the other, he braced himself for the chilly blast of air that awaited him as he exited the steamy bathroom. Hayner came from the kitchen where he'd been watering plants as evidenced by the watering pail in his good hand, asking if Seifer was okay. Brown eyes suddenly widened and his sentence petered out when he noticed the state of almost-nakedness the well-built fighter was in. The ice blue-eyed teen was beginning to notice a pattern emerging. When in a situation in which the elder's shirt or more was missing, the other tended to turn varying shades of pink and stare before averting his eyes.

A slow smirk spread across his face when his brain calmly informed him that the most likely logical explanation for this phenomena was that the tanned skater found him attractive. Perhaps it was a little strange that this nugget of information pleased him more than it should have, but he was definitely going to find some way to use it to his advantage.

"If you keep staring like that, I might actually get the feeling you like me. Wouldn't want that, I'm sure," he alerted the other in a low voice as he moved past. As much as he was tempted to just go around the house in nothing but a towel to taunt the senior, he was beginning to get cold again. To his immense confusion, the younger didn't even try to deny that he was attracted to the college student.

Shrugging, he moved up the stairs by first positioning the two metal walking aids on the stair and then using his upper body strength to lift himself up onto it between them. A long, arduous, and annoying process. Draping his wet but still clean clothes over the hooks on the back of the door of the guest room, he put on new clothes and returned downstairs by the same method he had the first time.

Roxas was nowhere to be seen, after inquiry it was discovered that they had figured out what had happened and the short blond senior had gone to tell the mother that her kid was chucking things at the neighbors. According to the injured eighteen year-old, who was assumed a good source, the mother was nice enough but had trouble keeping track of her kid and working at home at the same time. Large, dark eyes were somewhat glazed as they relayed this information.

"Sit down for a while, the stuff you're taking has a habit of causing dizziness and fatigue. It might pass quickly, or you might need to go lay down until the effect wears off a bit."

Surprisingly, his advice was followed without protest, the normally defiant male slumping into the chair nearest him heavily. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, he asked if the suddenly listless blond was feeling sick. The negative he got in return accompanied by a weak "just really tired" did nothing to quell rising feelings of protective duty in the stronger man. A thorough visual survey of the smaller teen found nothing amiss, but it was still likely that he would need to be carried into bed to sleep off the side effects of the painkillers.

As if possessing a radar that alerted him when he was needed, the azure-eyed blond came back into the house. Intelligent eyes flicked over the situation and worry creased his brow as he looked to the still standing teen for explanation. Deigning to offer one, the bully told him that the medicine was making the sandy-blond tired. Nodding, he strode over and pulled his friend into a standing position. Draping one arm over his shoulders and placing the other around Hayner's waist.

Looking similar to a soldier aiding a comrade off the field, the spiky-haired senior led his limp friend to the stairs then up them. Guessing the shorter blond would be able to handle putting the injured teen to bed, Seifer wandered into the living room. Turning on the TV, he found whoever had watched it before had left it on a nature channel. This particular show was about apes in the deep jungle.

Turning down the volume so he could just make out what they were saying, battle-honed hearing picked up footfalls heading down to the first level. The remaining high school student walked around the coffee table to sit on the other side of the couch. He turned his head to his right to see what was apparently a fight between rival families of apes. After a few seconds the antisocial younger teen broke the silence.

"You seem to care about him, even if you pretend you don't."

"What makes you think that, better yet, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a big difference. He'd kill me for saying this, but Hayner looks up to you. A lot. And I think you actually give a fuck what happens to him. If you'd quit trying to push him away all the time, you two could probably be good friends. You have more in common than you'd think, you two seem to understand each other pretty well considering."

"I don't think it'd be a great idea if we suddenly became chummy. If you haven't noticed, I deal with gangs, death threats, and deadly weapons pointed in my direction on an almost daily basis. He wouldn't be safe."

Clear blue eyes turned on him, a smile tugging at the younger boy's lips. Blinking, the scarred man lifted a brow as he wondered why the fuck the skater was looking at him like that.

"When you say things like that I can tell you care about him. Rather than saying you didn't want to be friends because you don't deem him worthy or something equally asshole-ish, you said he wouldn't be safe with you. The problem is, when you let things slip like that, chances are someone who doesn't like you very much is going to catch wind of you being just a little too nice to him to be normal, and he's going to end up getting hurt.

"After the incident last Friday, I don't think anyone believes you don't have a soft spot for him, and they're going to jump at the chance to exploit your weakness. The safest place for him is by your side. At least if you're close you can protect him. Unless you really want those gangs to get their hands on him."

He didn't know what startled him more, the fact that the kid actually made some good points, or that the idea of the weaker teen in the grasp of some of the larger, nastier gangs that roamed the alleys of Twilight Town made his stomach drop somewhere near his feet. They'd find out that he'd hauled ass across town at an absurd time of night after a long day of deliveries for some punk senior, if they hadn't already. And it was likely that if he didn't get someone to follow Hayner around as visible protection, the younger blond would just not come home one day.

"Axel's older brother, Reno, works as a detective for the town. He's got some intel that the Ragnarok crew are thinking about coming after you soon, he wouldn't put it past them to use Hayner as bait to lure you guys into their stomping grounds, or even as a hostage. Axel asked him to keep an eye on Hayner for me. All he asks in return is that you actually leave them in speaking condition for questioning, since they've done some fairly nasty things but they haven't been able to get any decent evidence."

"Damn, ruin all my fun. But I guess it's worth it. Mrs. Dincht would come after me with a frying pan if something happened to her son because of me. I really don't need to add blood-crazed mothers to my list of people who want to kill me."

Roxas snorted, most likely at the mental image of the steadfast fighter running for his life from a petite blond woman with a cooking implement. Nestling himself further into the comfortable couch, he stared into the distance.

"Take care of him."

The eighteen year-old said this with such purposefulness and finality that the one being spoken to couldn't think of anything to say in return. Taken aback, he watched the other's face, finding it deadpan. Left with that rather cryptic message, he turned his attention back to the television.

At five-fifteen the matriarch of the dwelling returned to find them in much the same position, with the addition of her son in the middle. After taking a two-hour nap he had felt better and gone out to finish the last of the weeding, despite Roxas's offers to do it instead. They had then spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and making odd conversation, a late lunch having been eaten somewhere along the line.

"Well, I see we have a second guest today. What are you doing here Roxas?"

"Bomb threat, they let school out a few hours in. Axel told me Hayner was awake and home, so I came as fast as could. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to stay here for the night."

"Don't even bother to ask Rox, you know you're always welcome here, announced prior or not. How are you feeling Hayner?"

"I got really tired earlier 'cause of the meds, but after sleeping it off a bit I was fine. I took some more at lunch but it didn't seem to bother me as much the second time."

"Well, if all it does is make you a bit sleepy that's not too bad. You'll either have to down a ton of caffeine or not take it when you head back to school though. Why don't you and Roxas head up and play some videogames or actually do some homework while I talk with Seifer for a bit in my office."

The brown-eyed teen gave her a look of mild interest but she refused to divulge any further information. Dragging his friend to his feet regardless of the lack of necessity, the golden-blond led the way to the injured senior's room. Contrary to popular belief, they really did know when they weren't wanted. Rising on rest-relaxed legs, the icy bully followed the woman down the hall to the very end. Upon opening the door, a cross between a study and a home library came into view.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get to know you a bit more. After pulling a few strings, I got access to your records. I'm not a stalker, I just wanted to learn a bit about the man I was about to let live in my house for nearly a week. I normally leave work at home, but after going over them, I became interested. I'm just going to ask you a few questions, you don't have to answer them if you feel uncomfortable doing so."

"Alright, sure. What kind of records did you manage to get a hold of, police, school, or medical?" He queried after sitting in the chair near the wall of bookcases, the psychiatrist taking the one closest the desk. She was letting him stay in her house, the least he could do was let her know a few things about him.

"All of them. I know a lot of people. Apparently you got shot in the stomach last summer, I can't imagine that was pleasant. I remember Hayner complaining that you weren't at the struggle matches for a month."

"Yeah, that sucked pretty bad. Guy who did it turned up a week later washed up on the beach, bullet through his brain. He made a lot of enemies out of the wrong people, they took care of him. For such a small town, this place has a lot of crime."

"The police aren't allowed to make regular rounds in their vehicles, and they're much less efficient on foot, so large parts of the city go unpatrolled. The loss of motor vehicle usage led to a rise in crime, but overall deaths and serious injury reports have decreased dramatically since cars were banned. And thanks to city-friendly groups like yours, a lot of the really bad crews get wiped out. Reno used to be in a gang like yours, that actually helped out the cops by keeping down the crime in a less than legal way. They called themselves the Turks. Things were really nasty back when they were around, less than half survived."

"And then Reno became a detective?"

"Along with his fellow remaining Turks, yes. A quiet donation by the city put them all through the necessary training. They know the how the streets work and aren't afraid to kill, they're some of the best on the force anywhere, not just in Twilight Town."

"Interesting. Can't say I envy them, losing their friends like that."

"Do you ever worry? About losing the people you care about because of the life you lead?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. Worrying comes with the job. But I know I can protect them."

"Why did you decide to form a gang that protects this city? Was it some form of coping mechanism, something to make up for the fact that you weren't able to protect your parents?"

Actually stopping to admire her way with words, or rather, the way she just speared anything he might say as a swift segway into her next question. She was managing to hit all the points he didn't like to dwell on one after another.

"I guess maybe it could have been. When I came here, I met Rai and Fuu, and after hanging around for a while I realized this place was worth protecting. I was fit, used to pain, and not afraid to get my hands dirty and break a few bones, mine or otherwise. I was perfect for the job, so I joined up with my friends and formed the Twilight Disciplinary Committee."

"You never went to a therapist after the loss of your parents, even though it was suggested several times and the suit against the other driver would have covered it. Was that because you thought it would show weakness, or did you honestly come to terms with it that quickly?"

"I knew I'd never get rid of my bitterness and grief, you don't ever really get over this sort of thing. So I didn't bother seeking help to do so. I just learned to deal," he answered, shifting in the chair. Even if she didn't sugarcoat the words, it was just weird talking to Hayner's mother like this.

"Even if I didn't know about the accident, I'd guess that you were either very rebellious as a teenager or you lost your parents at a fairly young age from the way you don't know how to act around authority figures such as other people's parents. You're overly respectful, even though you're an adult you insist on referring to me by last name, for example."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling even more out of place now that she had pointed his awkwardness out. She smiled disarmingly and he decided to turn the tables a bit and ask her something.

"You're not married anymore, but you tell people to call you Mrs. Dincht. Is there some reasoning behind that? It's been nagging me."

"I figured everything that was going on would distract you enough that it would escape your notice. But yes, it's mostly because at my job I have them refer to me as if I was still married so that I can trick them into thinking I am. In my line of work people are less likely to explain their troubles so I can diagnose them if they know that my marriage didn't work out. In some places, the stigma of divorce still exists."

"Why did you get divorced?" He prodded before realizing that he was being rude to the wrong person and adding, "If it's not too prying."

"He wasn't abusive, or a drunk, or even mean, if that's what you're thinking. We were college sweethearts and married as soon as I graduated, I had Hayner, and we figured out a few years later that it just wasn't meant to be. We didn't get along as well as we thought. Mostly a case of marrying too young and too naïve. I don't regret it though, I would do it all over again for Hayner. He's the best son a mother can ask for, even if he gets into a lot of trouble."

"Did you freak out when you learned he was, well, not straight?"

"I was surprised, certainly, but after getting over the shock of learning that my son had a crush on another boy I didn't have any qualms with it. Acceptance of the brain's workings is in my job description. As long as he finds happiness with a partner, it doesn't matter to me what gender they happen to be. Speaking of orientation, what's yours, or are you unsure?"

"Maybe this makes me weird, but I really don't have specific gender requirements. I work more on a person-to-person basis, I either like them or I don't. Just because they're male I'm not going to deny that I'm compatible with them."

She gave him a heavy measuring look before a look of astonishment took up residence on her face, "You're a bit of an odd duck to have that view at your age. Any relationships or current interests?"

"I dated a girl back in my old town, she was dense and annoying dumped her after a week. When I first came I liked Fuujin, but never really acted on it because Rai liked her more. Now that they're finally dating I can't imagine them apart. Right now, I guess I have feelings for this guy, but it's...complicated. I'm pretty sure he loves someone else, and I'm not even sure how I feel myself."

"Have you thought to ask them? From what Hayner says, you'd be the last one I'd expect to be afraid of rejection. You seem pretty self-confident."

"He talks about me?" A dry laugh, "You must have thought I was a complete asshat before we met."

Watery blue eyes studied him oddly, "Not at all. From what he says, you can be quite nice when you're not trying to act like the jerk you tend to play yourself off as. I'd have to say I agree. This entire time you haven't gone "bipolar" as he described it, going from being halfway decent to spitting insults. I have a feeling I'm talking to the real Seifer instead of the mask you hide behind all the time. That's the source of your mood swings, isn't it? You're constantly trying to maintain an image, even in front of someone who I daresay would accept you for who you really are if you'd let him see you for more than a few seconds at a time."

Now he really felt like a frog being dissected on a classroom lab table. In a scant few minutes she had managed to pick him apart and figure out what made him who he was. She also happened to be the second person today who in some way told him to let Hayner in, so either some higher power out there was messing with him, or it just might be a good idea. Except that becoming buddy-buddy with the scrawny teen would go against everything the street thug version of Seifer was about.

"Maintaining an image of un-approachability and just generally being cruel and arrogant comes with the territory. If I wasn't an asshole in public, people would be less afraid of me. Fear is respect on the streets."

"But here no one but us will know that you're not, in fact, the cold jerk you've convinced most everyone that you are. If you're going to stay in my house, I'm going to have to ask you try to be yourself a bit more often. A decline in insults thrown his way might lighten Hayner's mood a bit."

Shrugging noncommittally, he quietly hoped her interrogation was over. As much as he hated to admit it, talking about the things that had been plaguing him was somehow made the burden of worries just a little bit lighter, but he really didn't want to sit here baring his soul to some near stranger. He sneezed.

"Bless you. Hopefully you aren't getting ill."

"I don't get sick very often, I doubt it. You should be worried about Hayner."

She shook her head and continued, "As I asked earlier and you carefully avoided answering, have you bothered to ask the guy you think you might have feelings for if he harbors any for you? Sometimes being extremely forward is the only way to get anywhere with someone. He might just be shy."

A scoff, "There's nothing shy about him. And no, I haven't asked. Not because I'm afraid of rejection, but because I don't even know what I feel myself. It's not something I'm used to, and I at least owe him to be sure of myself before I do anything."

"Awfully noble for someone who refers to himself as a common thug part of the time," she said with a reprimanding look. He rolled his eyes, tired of people trying to convince him he was a good person. Self-proclaimed protector of the city or not, he was insensitive, overly competitive and arrogant, generally perceived as negative traits. He knew this, just didn't give a damn about the rest of the world to change. The two people he cared about in life wouldn't have him any other way. Or was that three now?

Nothing else forthcoming from the petite blond woman in the desk chair, he rose and made to leave when he decided to cross reference a new fact he learned today while he was here anyways. He was still having trouble believing the skinny blond most likely numbing his brain with videogames instead of doing his homework at the moment saw him as a role model. It was ridiculous.

"Roxas said Hayner looks up to me, is that true?"

"I think so. When you first came to town he suddenly started attending every struggle match and practicing on weekends, as well as trying harder and harder tricks at the skate park. All he'd talk about was trying to be better than you, with a side topic of how good you were. He suddenly started getting so reckless he broke bones while attempting some new feat."

It almost made the younger blond in the study feel bad that not only had he unknowingly caused Hayner to hurt himself in an attempt to impress him (because every time one of the bone-breaking tricks were performed the bully had just happened to be in the direct vicinity, if memory served, therefore it must have been to get his attention), and that he hadn't even noticed. Almost. Instead, a warm feeling of superiority washed through him at being admired by the younger boy.

"Wow, he's really not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"I don't know about that, Seifer. Other than a violent side occupation, you're a fairly upstanding member of society. Whether you think you are or not," She said with a wise smile. He grunted and limped out the door.

"No Fuu, really, I'm fine here. I wouldn't want to live in your apartment for a week anyways, you two cuddle enough to make me want to puke. Well, I'd better get off the phone," the scarred blond said as he glanced at the kitchen clock from his vantage point on the couch in the living room and found it to be twelve-twenty in the morning. He glanced around before adding, "Love you guys, sleep well."

A medium-volume voice (she tried to be quieter on the phone so she wouldn't completely ruin his hearing) returned the sentiment and bid him a good night before the click that signaled that she had hung up. Sighing, he stretched and slowly made his way to and up the stairs. As he walked by Hayner's room, he glanced in because the door was half ajar. The conscious blond stopped in his tracks and observed the silent scene that presented itself therein. Roxas had his arms wrapped around his friend, chest just barely touching the marginally taller skater's back. The spiky-blond's forehead rested in the curve of the brown-eyed senior's neck and their legs were curled identically to fit together.

It was at the same time disgustingly adorable and, though he would have loved to tease otherwise, entirely innocent. There were places where they simply didn't fit together quite right, the blue-eyed teen was positioned a bit too high, as if used to someone taller. It was more the closeness of best friends than lovers. He was still going to make fun of them for snuggling like pussies though, it was too tempting to resist.

As he finished his trek to his temporary lodgings his thoughts wandered to how they'd woken up this morning. Sleep had removed the lithe senior's inhibitions and he'd curled into the larger man's body while they'd both slumbered. He'd fit into Seifer's curves perfectly, slept like he was meant to be there. And honestly, he had no fucking clue why he was thinking about this right now. Ever since rescuing the chicken-wuss on his way back from the delivery, the sandy-blond had been on his mind constantly. He cared way too much about the pathetic senior and it pissed him off.

Laying down in the bed after having removed most of his clothes, he rubbed his temples and tried to sort things out. It was getting harder and harder to keep from being himself around Hayner, and every time he lapsed into being almost nice he snapped and threw whatever random insult he could think of out. He knew it was aggravating the younger teen, though why the latter expected otherwise eluded him.

People were telling him to stop avoiding the teen's attempts to get closer to him, and he was mere inches away from agreeing with them on the matter. The spunky struggler was actually genuinely interesting to him, which happened next to never. He reminded the scarred blond a lot of himself. He sighed heavily, draping an arm over his eyes. It had gotten to the point where the need to protect the chocolate-eyed boy overrode all common sense and self-preservation. Such as just standing there as he was informed his opponent had a gun because said person had hurt the pipsqueak and was planning on inflicting further damage.

He found it impossibly easy to talk about difficult subjects such as the death of his parents with him because the other always seemed to understand. He didn't want things to go back to the way they were before all this happened, he liked having the senior around all the time. As utterly stupid as it was, after a little late night soul-searching, Seifer grudgingly accepted that he quite possibly loved Hayner Dincht.


	5. Chapter 5

-1One of the worst things to wake up to in the morning was one's alarm clock screeching. No matter how many times Hayner woke to the not so dulcet tone of the electronic hell spawn (because what else could fashion such an irritating and enslaving device?), he'd never get used to it. Thankfully, some other kind soul smacked the button to turn it off for him this particular morning. Feeling the weight that had dipped the bed just behind him lift, he rolled over to find Roxas shifting through his drawers.

"G'morning Rox," he drawled, voice still slurred with sleep.

"Maybe it's good for you, but some people actually have to go to school today, and a school day morning is never good. Where are my pants?"

"Far left, second one down, where they always are Roxas. Someone's not terribly lucid this morning."

"I don't see you moving very fast either you lazy bum," the spiky-haired teen returned as he pulled out the necessary wardrobe items for the day. Tons of impromptu overnights had taught him to keep at least one clean change of clothes at his friend's house at all times. Showing up to school in the taller teen's clothing didn't really do much for getting rid of the idea that everyone seemed to have that they were clandestine lovers.

"Well, that's because I'm allowed to be a useless lump. You weren't unconscious in a hospital for three days, nor do you have broken bones. Therefore, you have to suck it up and go to hell. I mean school," he said, secretly laughing at his good fortune that his mom was letting him stay home.

"Same thing. Then again, I don't know if I envy you. You do have to deal with the oblivious fucktard Seifer all day by yourself. If you do start making out with him, record it, I have bets laid and I'd need proof for people to believe me."

Immediately following the words leaving his mouth he was clocked in the head with a shoe that happened to be within reach. The brown-eyed boy could feel his face heating up against his will. Blue eyes brightened as the other flashed a smile that was overly cheery considering it was fucking six-thirty in the morning. Finally getting out of bed, he went over to where his best friend was just obtaining the final article of clothing needed for the day and began getting what he needed to dress himself as well.

Striding over to kick the door closed, Roxas began taking off the loose tee and boxers he wore to bed. The rummaging blond knew this without looking, because it was one of their normal routines. The stronger of the two always got up first and dressed in the room, not worried about such things as privacy. When people have been friends since they were knee-high to their mothers, they at some point cease to need personal space with that friend. They were the first to know everything that happened to one another, and such things as sleeping in the same bed seemed as natural and normal as brushing their teeth in the morning.

Once they were both clothed to face the day, they headed down the stairs side by side with robotic precision. The sandy-blond always liked mornings like this, it was easier to deal with mornings if you had someone to help you along. Once inside the kitchen he stopped dead and stared at the incongruous scene. His mother was sitting at the table reading some paperwork while twirling a pen instead of making breakfast like she normally would be, Seifer doing so in her place, leaning heavily on the stove for balance.

Something about the bully making him pancakes, which was indeed what he was doing since three plates stacked with the breakfast food were already sitting on the table, was so entirely absurd and impossible he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I swear he didn't poison them, I've been watching just to make sure," the petite blond promised with a knowing wink, "Sit down boys, they're not going to eat themselves."

Exchanging a look, the two seniors did as she suggested, Roxas dumping syrup on his stack and daring to take a bite. Unexpectedly, he didn't start choking and fall over dead, rather he nodded, complimented the older blond on his cooking, and continued demolishing the food.

"I've lived on my own for years, I'd have to be clinically retarded not to have learned how to cook by now. And it's likely I'd have already died of starvation. Just because I'm so amazing doesn't mean I don't do normal things too," he said as he placed the final plateful of pancakes in front of his housemate for the week, making eye contact with the teen. Shards of eyes pierced him searchingly, and he stared straight back confrontationally.

In a moment of sheer flabbergasting strangeness, it was the taller male who looked away first, long dark lashes framing pale eyes that held what could be best called uncertainty. The most intelligent thing he could come up with to say in the midst of all this almost trip-like experience was, "Thanks for the food."

A resounding thud drew their attention to the cerulean-eyed teen, who had at that moment smashed his forehead against the wood table next to his plate. When asked if he was okay, he gave his friend a thumbs up as he gathered himself once again. Once he lifted his spiky head up again, he exchanged a look with the only female at the table and they sighed in unison. Not knowing what could be stewing in their often conniving heads, the dark-eyed senior ignored them.

"Normally the cook serves themselves last, but you happened to sit there instead, so it didn't work out that way," the college student said finally as he sat down to his meal.

"Since when did you know anything about etiquette?"

"Since when did you become a stereotyping dipshit?" The well-built man answered with the beginnings of anger lacing his words. Realizing he probably was being unfair, he turned his attention to the food in front of him. Finding it to be truly delicious, he said as much, albeit with less enthusiasm due to the early hour. A slight twitch at the corners of that aggravatingly perfect mouth translated into Seifer's version of a smile. Something the lithe skater had learned to recognize as such through studying the fighter's handsome features a little too much.

Still wondering when he was going to wake up from this dream, since if it was real he was either on drugs or Seifer magically decided to act like a contributing member of society for a few minutes instead of an all-out jackass, he finished up the fluffy breakfast and took his medication. Hoping the morning would continue this way (even if nothing made sense), he knew the pipe dream was about to be broken when the telltale smirk appeared on the scarred face of his savior and tormentor.

"So, do you two always cuddle when Roxas sleeps over, or was last night special?"

"Why, you think there's something wrong with two people who have been best friends for fourteen years not being afraid to make affectionate physical contact with one another?" It was the golden-blond who answered him, brows betraying the irritation he managed to keep out of his voice.

"Generally the only ones who sleep in the same bed when staying over for the night are girls, and even then not all of them are okay with bodily contact. Then again, you two are pansies."

"Well maybe we just don't need to constantly assert our manliness to one another by fighting over who gets to be tough by sleeping on the floor. We've been sleeping like that since we were little, I can't really see what's wrong with it. Unless you're one of those idiots who think we're together," this time Hayner spoke, feeling like the nineteen year-old's heart just wasn't in it today. There was something undeniably off about the injured man, including but not limited to the fact that his eyes were bloodshot. "Did you have trouble sleeping?"

Not bothering to point out how quick he was to change the subject, the leader of the Disciplinary Committee replied, "If by trouble sleeping you mean I didn't get any sleep at all, then yes. Why the hell do you care?"

"Do I need a reason to give a damn about you? I can care without having an ulterior motive, contrary to popular belief. Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Bad headache kept me awake."

"Think you might be getting sick?" Pink lips pursed with concern, eyes searching for other outward signs of fatigue or illness. He did seem a bit paler than normal, posture less aggressive. It could have been just the lack of sleep though.

"I don't usually get sick, I feel fine otherwise. It's probably just my neck being out of alignment. Are you worried you might actually have to do something if I do become incapacitated?"

"This may come as a surprise to someone so used to people being as uncaring towards him as he is to them, but I'm actually genuinely concerned with your health. Maybe you'd actually be tolerable with a fever, since you refuse to be so normally."

A grunt was the only response he received and he hadn't been expecting much better either. Though the blue-eyed fighter's behavior did make him the tiniest bit anxious about the state he was in, he couldn't force the man to tell him what all was wrong. He was far less feisty today than Hayner had ever seen him before. Either he'd given up on pretending to be such a prick, or he really was quite ill and lying to appear tough.

The largely forgotten teen across from him rose suddenly, saying he should start walking to school. Axel was likely already coming to meet him along the way, modified board in tow, compliments of one Marluxia. Despite having shoulder-length pink hair and resembling a girl, the guy knew his way around skateboards, offering to adjust the balance on the wheels for him after the first fix a week or so back made them slightly uneven. Giving the injured senior a hug before hefting his previously ignored back pack, he said goodbye and walked out the door into the bright morning.

Before long Mrs. Dincht left as well, giving her son a kiss on the forehead and Seifer a meaningful look. Migrating from the kitchen to the living room, they turned on the TV for background noise and began working on what was probably the most loathed thing ever conceived, homework. The college student was studying up on marine biology for a test (he was taking both first-level biology and chemistry to get the sciences out of the way), and the teen beside him was attempting and failing to work with matrices for math. Even with Olette's extremely complete and entirely readable notes, it didn't make a damn bit of sense to him.

He could feel the stronger teen stealing glances at his work, and finally after about half an hour, the golden-blond must have gotten fed up with his failure. With the words, "You suck, let me show you," as explanation, the graduate promptly pulled the work out of his hands and started erasing incorrect answers, putting what the book said were indeed the right ones in their place. Launching into a step-by-step lesson on how to do each type of problem, it was almost word for word what the brunette's notes said, but for some reason actually hearing it and being shown the process made things start seeming more possible. The next problem was much easier, and he actually got it right for a change.

"You must be more of an aural learner," the bully said, coming from him and devoid of derision, it might as well have been praise to Hayner.

"And I also just suck at math in general. Rox usually has to show me how to do this stuff and my physics himself. He ends up doing half my homework for me most of the time. I write a large part of his essays in exchange, he's not much of an English person."

"Most people are good at something. I'm just surprised you have any particular talent, chicken-wuss."

"Same here smartass. Then again, it isn't really that hard to be good at fighting, is it?"

"For your information, I happen to have the best grades in my History and Chemistry classes. I'm not as dumb as I seem to be, I just thought you were bright enough to realize that without me telling you."

It was pretty surprising to him that the brash and arrogant blond was actually a halfway decent student, but he supposed if the older teen did anything, he defied expectations. Smiling in self-congratulations when he got the right answer for the next problem, he swallowed his pride and thanked the larger male next to him. Absorbed in his studying, the fighter nodded once in acknowledgement. It made the senior realize something altogether startling and pleasing. His crush was actually acknowledging his existence a lot more often than he ever had before.

"Hey Seifer, I can't help but notice you've been a lot more civil lately. Are you finally deciding to stop being such a pain in the ass, or is this just a nice side effect of you being injured?"

"I'm just running out of reasons to make fun of you. You're not nearly as fragile as I assumed you to be, for one," he stopped, looking at skinny teen next to him calculatingly, then continued, "If things weren't about to get so hectic, I might even invite you to become a member of the crew. You might prove useful. Right now letting you in would be effectively signing your death wish for you though."

Containing the joy that threatened to bubble over within him at having the extremely picky bully consider allowing him into the closely-knit group, he picked up on the danger of the situation, pressing for information, "Why's that, is something going to happen soon?"

"One of the city's biggest remaining gangs, the Ragnarok, are thinking of challenging us. They're a cruel bunch, have a rap sheet longer than my arm. Rape, murder, kidnapping, name any of the truly despicable crimes and someone there has committed it and gotten away with it. There are fourteen of them. You can already see where we have problems."

Indeed, he could feel the blood rushing away from his face, knew he must have just gone about three shades whiter. With about five-to-one odds, even if they were ballet dancers rather than practiced brawlers and the scarred teen wasn't hurt the trio would have trouble taking them down. Hayner shivered at the thought of being there when the fight took place, if he came out alive it would be a miracle. His pencil was in a white-knuckled grip when he realized that the man he loved could well die in the next few weeks.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were genuinely worried about me. Don't worry, we'll be able to set the date of the confrontation since they're coming to us, plus we'll have the homefield advantage. I should be fairly healed by the time it comes to put our money where our mouth is. As long as they don't try to snatch someone close to us or anything, things should work out. Generally the only way to cause a gang war is to either kidnap one of the higher-ups' girls or just really piss the other guy off. We tend to do the latter, with all our crusading for a crime-free city."

"So, this sort of thing happens often?"

"Fairly, we almost never go onto another gang's turf unless they're small-time losers. It would be akin to suicide to walk into say, the Bahamut's side of town. They've got at least thirty members, half of which are so drugged up they can be shot in the chest and just keep fighting like nothing happened until they fall over dead."

He worried his lip, the sharp pain just enough to keep him from becoming nauseous with fear. Yet another reason why it sucked that he had to fall in love with the unobservant, cold, insensitive bully; the man could die at a whim from any one of the many unsavory characters that infested Twilight Town. He winced when he bit down just a little too hard and drew blood from his already abused lip. As the red sprang to vibrant life and began dribbling down in a slow single line, he was just unlucky enough that the reason for his anxiety had actually been watching him and snagged his bloodying chin to inspect it.

"Is there any particular reason you just made yourself bleed? If you keep it up like that, it's never going to heal."

Batting down the groan that threatened to tear past his scrutinized lips at how unintentionally true the man's words were in regards to his current predicament. Being this close to something he could never have was going to drive him absolutely batshit soon, but he just couldn't douse that tiny flame of hope he had left. As the searching artic shards continued to stare, he realized that he hadn't given any kind of answer as to why he'd suddenly injured himself. And that upon glancing down his blood could be seen curling sluggishly along Seifer's thumb and hand.

"I do that," he paused, feet shifting nervously as he was forced to maintain eye contact by the strong grip on his chin, "when I'm worried sometimes. I didn't mean to break it open."

A single perfect eyebrow arched, "You're worried about me? Why?"

Oh how he wanted to scream 'Because I love you, idiot!' at that moment, but some form of common sense interfered and he settled for a quiet, "I don't want you to die."

Pale irises flashed as the larger male blinked rapidly in confusion, before a look that the tanned teen couldn't place settled onto hard features. Feeling like he'd just said something he shouldn't have, he tried to discreetly pull away from the stoic boy's grasp, only to find it tighten in response.

"Then I won't."

The softness of the voice with which the words were said would have made him wonder if it had indeed been Seifer who'd uttered them if he hadn't been watching the teen's lips move. With their faces only inches apart, it was nigh impossible for him to not think about kissing the stronger blond. Indeed the only thing that was stopping him from leaning forward this very second and doing what he'd wanted to for so long was the sad fact that he coveted the college student far too much to do something as low as lip-raping him. It would be the basest sacrilege, and he didn't feel like breaking the strengthening bond between them just for a quick peck.

Grabbing a tissue off the coffee table in front of them, the momentarily nice blue-eyed blond wiped the blood off the smaller boy's captive chin. Instead of doing the same with his hand, he licked the plasma off. Very glad that there was a math book sitting on his lap at the moment, Hayner had to think of extremely unsexy things again, wondering just how the hell he was supposed to make it through their time together sane if his companion was going to insist on doing such things. An hour later he was beginning to have trouble focusing on the last few problems of his homework, drowsiness making things blur. He heard the low, smooth voice of his crush but wasn't paying enough attention to make out what he'd said.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were feeling okay, which apparently you aren't," the older teen answered in an irritated tone, wrestling the math work out of his fingers and tossing it on the table carelessly.

"I feel fine, I'm just-"

"Stop lying! You are not fine, and you're not going to get anywhere by pretending that you are. What the hell are you trying to prove by pushing yourself like this?"

"Quit acting like you actually care Seifer, it doesn't suit you," he regretted the words the second they tumbled from his traitorous mouth. Not only was it untrue, but it was a cruel thing to say to someone who was making an effort to be nicer to him.

A sharp intake of breath from his furious housemate let him brace himself just before a hand fisted in his shirt and he was jerked forward and up so that he was less than an inch away from searing eyes. He wanted to dig a hole and die in it when he recognized the hurt in them. The fighter fumed, breathing heavy and controlled in an attempt to contain his anger. Brown eyes wide, Hayner expected to be struck, thrown, yelled at, or any number of other unpleasant things. He was startled stiff when all the fury rushed from the scarred blond in a sigh, light eyes closing before he leaned his forehead on the sandy-blond's.

"I'm not acting Hayner. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have stitches in my leg and you probably wouldn't be alive," as he spoke, hot breath ghosted over the senior's battered lips, a uniquely enjoyable form of torture.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I appreciate what you've done for me, shouldn't have said that."

"But you're right, normally giving a damn wouldn't suit me at all."

"That's not you though, is it? That's just the person you'd like the rest of the world to think you are. I like this Seifer better than the one who's constantly trying to make himself out to be a complete bastard."

The grip on his shirtfront was removed and he sank back down onto the couch. No longer in danger, his mind became fuzzy again, eyelids weighing down. Powerful hands pulled him down so he was laying on the couch, head pillowed in the love of his life's lap. Toeing off his shoes, he drew his legs up so they rested on the furniture as well, distantly hearing the other telling him to go to sleep. He was only too happy to oblige.

Lately he'd been waking up in various embarrassing situations, with a tube in his nose, in a hospital bed next to the object of his affections, in his own bed laying on that same person, and now he awoke to his own whimper of pleasure at the hand running gently through his hair. Terror arced through him when he heard an easy laugh and discovered that the hand belonged to none other than the source of his frustrations, that he had just made an insanely pathetic sound at Seifer. Truly, someone out there was enjoying themselves by making his life hell.

"You awake chicken-wuss?" The hand kept moving, nearly lulling him back to sleep.

"Yeah," he replied as he opened his eyes, "What time is it?"

"One twenty-five. You've been out for a while."

He only managed to groan in response as he sat up again, the hand in his hair sliding out easily and landing on the nineteen year-old's uninjured leg. Rubbing the heels of his palms in his eyes to clear them of the remnants of sleep, he felt a headache coming on to accompany the dull ache of his chest that had returned with a vengeance. Rising, the heavily-muscled teen grabbed his crutches and limped over to the kitchen, going about getting lunch.

Abashed that he'd kept the older boy from moving by falling asleep on him, he got up as well, helping gather the odd ingredients for sandwiches. Slipping an apology for sleeping on him so long, the sandy-haired male bit into the ham and swiss.

"If I really wanted to move, I would have. You're not exactly heavy, and you probably wouldn't have woken up. I felt like staying there, you had nothing to do with it."

The last part was a poor lie, but he knew it was the cold man's way of telling him not to worry about it. Thinking it might not be so bad to have to deal with the normally unreasonable fighter if he was going to act like himself more often, the younger blond smiled to himself. Bloodshot eyes watched him oddly, before the tired man shook his head and muttered something under his breath, clearly thinking him crazy. He finished his meal, only to find that the blond across from him had barely eaten half of his.

"Seifer, are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Glaring at him for bringing his health into question again, he responded roughly, "I can take care of myself, I don't need some idiot pansy worrying about me just because I don't eat much for lunch. You should focus on staying well yourself since you seem to suck at it so much lately."

Deciding that getting into a fight over communicating when one wasn't feeling well would only serve to aggravate both of them to the point of violence, he sighed resignedly and headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower. Not only was he sore and somewhat grimy, but it would give him time to think without the constant presence of the person who generally occupied his thoughts. Letting the roasting-hot water work the tension out of his back and neck muscles while doing his best not to get the cast wet, he leaned his head on the wall beside him. Even he'd admitted that he cared, Seifer had yet to give any hints as to whether he had any sort of romantic inclination towards the smaller struggler, or even if he swung that way. It was maddening not knowing.

The slow burn of the unrequited (or so he assumed) feelings he had for the nearly inaccessible college student would either incinerate him or cause him to crack and shatter like tempered glass. As it stood it wouldn't take much of a push for him to finally break under the strain, and he didn't want to think about the many scenarios that could play out if that happened.

He didn't even know if he really did like the person he'd always known the nasty bully to be under his mask. Though it certainly was enjoyable to be treated like a person and be allowed to see the man's equivalent of a soft underbelly or exposed throat, it gave him hope, which was the last thing he needed right now. If the physically and emotionally scarred blond had remained behind his facade of unfeeling cruelty, at least he'd have a definitive answer on whether or not he had a chance with the dangerously handsome gang leader. That he now knew that he at least mattered to the isolated iceberg only made his feelings harder to ignore. The combination of glimmering hope and heart-stopping despair was enough to make him want to burst out crying, if only his immense pride allowed it.

Having been going through his routine amidst his musings in a thoughtlessly automatic manner, he realized suddenly that he was done and shut off the water. Emerging feeling just the slightest bit like a steamed vegetable, he dried himself off quickly and threw the clothes he'd worn earlier back on, since they weren't remotely dirty. Glancing around the first floor, he caught no trace of the large blond, who wasn't exactly hard to miss, so he headed upstairs.

Padding to the guest room door in his socks (he just now realized he'd left his shoes downstairs in front of the couch), he looked in. Through the five inches or so that the door was ajar he could see his crush scribbling down notes from a chemistry textbook while listening to music off his mp3 player. Curiosity satisfied, he crept into his own room. Grabbing a novel he'd been reading before the incident and turning to the exact page he'd left off on, he returned to the story as if he'd never left it.

He loved reading, it was largely a stress release, a simple way to rid his mind of whatever was plaguing it. As always, the thing bothering him was roughly an inch or so shy of six feet tall and well-built, made perfect by the scars that completed rather than marred his body. Letting himself be lulled away from his problems by the steady, poetic cadence of words, the brown-eyed teen temporarily found respite from the world and the almost god-like blond bullies therein.

The day passed without any other interesting events, other than Seifer skipping dinner entirely, much to his admirer's concern. Mrs. Dincht told him to leave their guest alone, and he reluctantly obeyed.

"Hayner? Hayner sweetie, it's time to wake up. For some reason Seifer isn't responding when I try to rouse him, why don't you give it a try? I'm sure he'll wake up if you provide a little physical stimulus rather than aural."

Rendered alert by the mention of the icy blond not waking up when called, especially since he was such a light sleeper normally, the just-conscious teen got out of bed. The blond woman smiled at him briefly before leaving so he could dress before confronting a comatose and most likely grumpy college student. He pulled on whatever happened to be on top of the layers of clothing in his drawers out of a combination of laziness and a want to find out what could possibly be wrong with one of the most important people in his life.

Pushing open the door hesitantly, wary of impeding on the tough teen's space, he found a pained-looking and very unconscious blond tangled in his sheets. Either Seifer quietly aspired to be a butterfly and built himself a cocoon every night, or he had struggled in his slumber. Dark blond brows furrowed with apprehension, he approached the flushed older teen. Placing a tentative hand on a scarred forehead, finding it to be hotter than it probably should have been. Unsure due to the fact that his hands and feet were normally freezing compared to the rest of his body for whatever reason, he leaned down and pressed his injured and sensitive lips to the soft plane of skin the way his mother did whenever he was ill.

Conveniently enough, the previously unconscious object of his affections chose that moment to stir, opening his eyes only to find a skinny senior kissing his forehead. Drawing back, convinced that his companion was indeed sick, chocolate eyes met overly bright and pearly-white ones. Apparently his irises paled even more when he wasn't feeling well.

"Hayner? What were you doing?" The words were slurred and heavy, but thankfully not accusing.

"I was seeing if you had a fever, mom said you didn't wake up, so she sent me in here to check on you. You looked sick."

Nodding even though he didn't look like he totally comprehended the situation yet, he asked for some water. Turning, he left the room to fetch both the requested liquid and a thermometer. It was clear the blue-eyed blond had a fever, but they needed to know just how bad it was. Watery blue eyes tracked him into the bathroom where he began fumbling with things in the medicine cabinet in pursuit of the needed device.

"Honey, what is it?"

"Seifer's sick, he's got a fever, doesn't seem to be quite with us. I was just about to take his temp. before letting him drink some water and seeing what else he'll need," he explained, finding the thermometer and heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. Asking if the temperature measuring device was clean, he received an affirmative and headed back up to the ill teen. Surprisingly cooperative, the taller male didn't complain when he had to wait to drink until they got a read on his internal temperature.

Troubled when the electronic device read around one hundred and three degrees, he relayed the information to the matriarch of the household, who happened to be waiting in the doorway in case her motherly expertise was necessary. Thin lips pursed and she went down to call the doctor that had seen to the wounded man, who'd given her his home phone in case complications such as this arose. Throwing back the full eight ounce glass like it was a shot, the weakened man sighed and attempted to wrest himself from the tangle of sheets, the other helping him.

"How're you feeling?"

"Like hell," he returned, one hand rubbing his eyes. He was a bit more coherent now, though his voice lacked any of its normal bite. When asked if he wanted anything else, he just shook his head and closed his eyes again. Stomach sinking at the leader of the Disciplinary Committee's listlessness, he began ravaging his lower lip again.

"Don't do that Hayner, you're just going to break your lip open again. The doctor said if the fever gets about two degrees worse we should get him into the emergency room immediately, but otherwise just to treat it like any other illness. Fluids, bed rest, the usual," Mrs. Dincht informed them. Nodding in understanding, her son resolved to stay next to the immobile defender until he was better.

For reasons unknown to Seifer, the scrawny senior didn't stray from his bedside the entire day except to bring him more water and collect homework from Roxas, which he worked on until near ten that night. His awareness was spotty at best, the fighter drifted in and out of consciousness all through the day, last thing he knew it was three-thirty in the afternoon, then it was seven at night, then ten. Rousing again at fifteen minutes past midnight, he looked over to find the senior still there, sleeping slumped uncomfortably in the chair he'd pulled over from the desk against the parallel wall.

Draining what little energy he had, he jerked his body so he was sitting upright long enough to grip the collar of the smaller teen's shirt and drag him out of the chair. Strong arm just managing to guide the tanned boy into bed next to him, he slowly set about pulling the blankets over them both. The high school student snuggled up to him in his sleep, face betraying no knowledge of what he was doing. It was odd how he had a habit of getting friendly with whoever happened to be next to him while he slumbered.

He couldn't help but wonder if the sandy-blond was going to become ill as well from spending so much time around him. It was also annoying that the boy had kept watch over his sleeping companion until he basically passed out in the chair, especially right after the scarred teen had told him to stop pushing himself.

Then again, his defiant nature was part of what made him so well-matched with the gang leader. Most people did whatever he told them to, if not out of fear, out of wanting to be on his good side in case they needed help later. Hayner, and to some extent Fuu and Rai, were exceptions to that. The younger blond only rarely followed rules or instructions. If the cold man pushed him to do something, he'd push right back and tell Seifer to fuck himself. One of the few people with the balls to stand up to him was gay. It was both hilariously ironic and convenient if the muscular blond was going to have a shot at him.

He was just beginning to plot how to work his way around the infatuation the senior had with the as yet unknown someone (whom he was probably going to punch for being a moron), when another vicious headache came on. Rubbing one of his overheated temples, the other arm wrapped around the skinny male in a way that felt far too natural, he grumbled and closed his eyes, choosing to sleep it away. Somewhere between the cute blond beside him nuzzling into the space between his shoulder and neck and finally falling asleep again, the better skater noticed that they were sleeping together far more than could possibly be considered normal. Not that he minded.

Registering that this was not the way he recalled falling asleep, brown eyes hesitantly opened to find that he was once again sleeping on his long-time crush. God only knew why, but he was certain that this time it wasn't his fault. He knew he had been in the chair next to the bed last he checked, and since he couldn't remember beyond that there were only three explanations for his current position. Either the sick teen had pulled him into bed in an act of kindness, he'd somehow sleepwalked into the bed and pulled the covers over himself before cuddling with whatever was next to him, or it was just fucking magic.

Whatever the cause, he wasn't about to complain. He'd managed to get closer to the love of his life in a few days than he had in years of knowing the hard bully. If his attitude was any indication, Seifer was finally starting to warm up to him. Even if the surprisingly intelligent fighter wasn't interested in him romantically, there was still a good chance the dark-eyed senior would be allowed to join the Twilight Disciplinary Committee. At least he'd be able to stay by his scarred savior's side and be of use to him.

"Well, goodness. At the rate I find you two in the same bed, I'd think you were involved already, if I didn't know how impossible it was for both of you to admit that you have romantic feelings. How did you end up there dear?" He turned and caught sight of a bobbed blond head, his mother just entering the room as she spoke.

"I don't know, honestly. All I remember is sitting in the chair and getting really tired. Then nothing."

"You really shouldn't sleep in chairs like that honey. If I had to hazard a guess, he probably woke up, found you like that, and took pity on you. It couldn't have been enjoyable to sleep like that."

"Yeah, pretty much. Even if he was a moron for not just sleeping in his own bed."

Nearly jumping into the air at the sudden addition of the nineteen year-old to the conversation, he turned back to find still-fevered eyes watching him, the older male's dangerous mouth smirking. Blushing when he thought of what his mother had said upon entering the room, he prayed the person he happened to be in bed with hadn't heard her. When he shifted to remove himself from the bed, the arm around his waist (that he just discovered to be there) didn't relent its hold, as if his housemate didn't want him to get up.

"Hayner, it's six in the morning, go the hell back to sleep."

Swiftly and painfully aware of the fact that he had only slept for roughly seven hours, he quickly decided the sleeping for a little while longer would be a great idea. Still awkward about the whole situation, he rested his head on a well-muscled and unavoidably bare chest once again. The combination of fatigue, wanting to escape the dull throb of his injuries, and the unexpectedly gentle hand absently massaging the kinks out of his neck were enough to knock him out in under ten minutes.

Stirring again at a few minutes past nine, he slipped out from under the now limp arm of his companion to get breakfast. Feeling entirely un-ambitious, he poured himself some cereal instead of actually cooking something. Mulling over whether their strange tendency to end up in the same bed at night was enjoyable or just sucked, he finally groaned and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

"I can't do this anymore," he said to himself.

The thought of Seifer actually returning his feelings was both exciting and terrifying. If the reserved teen limped down and said those three little words at this very moment, the brown-eyed boy would probably just stare in amazement. He just wouldn't know how to react if the feelings he never thought would get him anywhere actually did. It was absurd to want something for so long that if he got it, he would have no clue what to do with it. Staring his glass of milk to death as if it held the answer to his problems somewhere between the iron and vitamin D particles, he rested his head on the table morosely.

"Someone's cheery this morning," a rough voice commented, breaking him out of his sulking, "So princess, what's got you in a bad mood this early? That time of the month already?"

Snarling, he turned to yell something nasty he hadn't quite come up with yet when his eyes fell on the free-standing form of the injured man in a pair of baggy sweats and his temporary rage quieted, "How can you walk without crutches in your condition?"

"I'm not feeling as weak as I was yesterday. I'd be fine if not for the pounding headache and fever. You alright? Your face is a little flushed," he added as he strode over to grab a glass and fill it with milk, sitting down next to the only other person in the house. Of course, the smaller male was far from ill, it was more the fact that the other was shirtless that had him flustered. He had the tiniest inkling that the cocky teen knew exactly what he did to Hayner, and probably skipped wearing a shirt on purpose.

"I'm great. Except, next time you think you might pull me into bed with you in the middle of the night, warn me while I'm still conscious so I won't freak out in the morning."

"What, do you not like sleeping next to me or something?"

"No, it's not that-" He stopped dead, eyes widening in horror when he saw the smirk on his tormentor's face and he realized he'd just fallen for an obvious hook. He'd unknowingly admitted that he liked sleeping in the same bed as the Disciplinary Committee leader, which while true, was not something he was ready to say out loud. What Seifer had to gain from baiting him like that had yet to be seen, unless he held interest in the lithe senior.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" The chocolate-eyed teen changed the subject swiftly upon seeing that his guest hadn't gotten anything for himself other than a glass of milk.

"Not hungry," was the curt reply.

"Seifer-"

"Shut up, I don't need you being a mother hen the entire time I'm here. I told you, I can take care of myself."

Failing to hide the hurt he felt at being brushed off so brusquely he went back to staring at his vitamin-enriched milk. And unless his peripheral vision was fucking with him, the ice blue-eyed male actually looked sorry for snapping at him. They passed the rest of the short meal in silence, hard eyes on the tanned teen as he downed the pain medication. It was still just as disgusting, and right after the scarred college student told him to go to bed in order to sleep off the drowsiness that was sure to affect him.

Waking up from a two hour nap feeling groggy but alert enough to function, he wandered out of his room to find his housemate reading a book that was obviously for a class at the small desk in the guest room. The Snows of Kilimanjaro by Ernest Hemingway, judging by the cover art. He'd read it in his spare time a month ago. It was plain that sometime during his nap the sick man's fever had broken, as evidenced by the normal luster and color of his pretty eyes.

"I'm going to take a guess and say that you've already read this book."

"Yeah, why?"

"You're going to help me write an essay on it."

They spent the next three hours on the younger blond's laptop, doing all the steps of the essay in one shot. They worked on the outline together, then the person actually supposed to do the essay by himself wrote the rough draft, having his new English homework minion edit it to form the final draft. It was interesting, they actually worked together quite well, at least it seemed that way to the eighteen year-old.

"Thanks chicken-wuss, guess you really are good for something. I can see why Roxas comes to you for help."

"Am I losing my mind, or is the mighty Seifer actually admitting that someone else might be better than him at something?"

"I'm not above saying that someone can write a better essay than I can. I'm still better than you at pretty much everything else, might as well give you some reason to keep living."

He was just inches from telling the arrogant bully that he already did give him a reason to keep living, but once again, sense intervened, "I do beat you at struggle sometimes, in case you conveniently forgot."

It was true, about three matches out of ten it would be the sandy-haired boy who emerged victorious from a struggle against his rival and crush. Their matches were often close (except for a few when the stronger man was in a bad mood and his victim was off his game, which were complete shutouts and usually ended with the marginally shorter teen bleeding on the platform), coming down to a few balls at the end of the timer. It just depended on whether one of them was really set on winning. If the lighter-haired man really wanted to, he could wipe the floor with his opponent, but he normally played it close, and on the days when Hayner really wanted to prove himself, he would inevitably win from sheer willpower.

"Yeah, once and a while when I don't feel like putting up a fight and throw the match to make you feel better about yourself. You'd never beat me if I really wanted to win."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure, the next struggle match is in less than two weeks, come up with your side of the bet by then. I already know what mine is."

"What?" The scrawny skater asked, instantly curious as to what the tough teen could possibly want from him.

"Like I'd tell you now. You'd just try to back out of it. We'll decide on the bet right before the match, you'd have to be a total pansy to walk away from a struggle in front of everyone."

Seriously thinking he'd just dug himself a hole that was going to be impossible to get out of, he nodded cautiously. Grinning like a cat that had just eaten the canary, the blue-eyed blond moved on to other homework, unit analysis problems for chemistry. Just as he was about to leave, the Twilight Community College attendee asked him how many feet were in a mile, having forgotten himself and not having the conversion on hand.

"Five-thousand two-hundred and eighty."

Blinking and seeming to find that the number was correct, he said, "I guess if it's ground into your memory enough, you are pretty decent with numbers."

"I used that at least a hundred times in chemistry and physics class, there's a ton of unit analysis in both of those. I'd have to be an idiot not to remember it."

"Which makes it all the more amazing that you do, since on most accounts, you act like a moron."

It was becoming easier to tell when the fighter actually meant the jab or not, and this was one of the many times he didn't. The rest of the week went similarly, their respective friends arriving every day with more and more work for class and each of them dragging the other through the subjects they had trouble with.

They continued to trade insults, but it was also becoming a normal occurrence for his savior to make physical contact in what might be considered a show of affection. He had been massaging the knots in the slight teen's back formed from tension around his injured ribs every time he noticed the teen was sitting stiffly. It was weird, but the shorter blond took it as the elder trying to be somewhat friendly. It made him suspicious. Before he was nearly ready, Monday came and he and his temporary housemate split up again. He wasn't surprised at how sad he was to see the love of his life leave once more, but he did hope it would stop hurting eventually.

He shifted his backpack uncomfortably as he looked over his shoulder again, certain someone had been following him since he separated from Roxas at the Sandlot. He kept catching glimpses of red behind him, but it was a little too light to be Axel. Finally ducking into an alley and waiting for his pursuer to walk by in search of him, he was startled to find none other than Reno to be his stalker.

"What the fuck are you following me for Reno?" The blond snapped, in a bad mood after the first day of school in nearly a week and having no aggravating and handsome blonds to come home to.

"Roxie and Axel told me to follow you yo. They're worried about the shit with the Ragnarok crew and Seifer's gang trickling down to you because you've managed to become associated with the scarred punk. You're looking way better than you did the night of the incident. Looks like the bruising has finally faded."

"So, how long are you going to be stalking me, and why wasn't I informed of any of this beforehand?"

"The fight goes down in three days. Seif thinks his leg will be good enough to fight with by then, and for his sake I hope so. The bastard may be lucky, but even he's pushing it with this clusterfuck. Might wanna look into finding another prospective partner yo. Tall, blond and dangerous might not live to see twenty at the rate he's going."

Hayner then did something he never thought he'd ever do in his life; he kicked a cop in the shin, hard. Yelping, the redhead grabbed the abused limb momentarily, then gave the brown-eyed attacker a lopsided smile. Standing normally again, he tilted his head to study the sandy-blond that was under his protection.

"Got a little bit of a bite to ya, don'tcha? Trust me kid, I've taken a lot worse than that and kept fighting. You want me gone, you'll have to try a lot harder than that. As far as why you weren't told, Roxie didn't think you'd agree to it yo."

"I don't want you to leave, I just want you to shut the fuck up about Seifer, I don't need to be reminded how dismal his chances of a long life are. And no, I wouldn't agree with being stalked for my protection if anyone bothered to ask me."

"You're worried about him, aren'tcha? I can tell by the look on your face. Once you two finally get together you should teach him not to piss off the homicidal neighbors that outnumber him four to one."

"Five to one, more like, and why wouldn't I be worried? You said it yourself, he could die."

"I was playing with you yo, if there's anything I've learned from being a Turk and a detective, it's that guys like him don't die. At least not by the hand of small-time dumbfucks like the Ragnaroks. Now if he got in trouble with the mafia, then I'd tell you to worry your ass off. Or kidnap him and move far, far away."

"There's a mafia in Twilight Town?"

He laughed, "Used to be. The Turks took them down, along with the help of the Mayor's son, Rufus, who cut off funds they were getting from corrupt officials. He and Tseng are quite the item lately, though the big man would die of heart attack if he knew his sweet little son was a flamer."

Finding no point in hiding in an alley, he returned to walking home, the spiky-haired detective following on his heels, "What about you?"

"I got a girl named Elena, she's a real pistol. She was a Turk too back in the day, one of the lucky few who made it."

"So, what's going to happen on Thursday, exactly?"

"Shit if I know, I assume blondie and his crew are going to beat the living shit out of the Ragnaroks, like they always do with anyone who tries to get rid of them. I'm under strict orders to keep you out of harm's way, so I won't see any action. Tseng's got clean up duty, so he'll be too busy taking care of the preparations for that to help them out, Elena's got the trail of a serial killer from a town over and I probably won't see much of her in the next week, and Rude's on drug beat. He'll be way too busy busting dealers on the outskirts of town to help. They'll be on their own this time, but I think they can handle it. Sure they'll probably end up in the hospital, but that's not really anything new for them."

"Why can't I help them fight?"

He stopped and stared, blue-green eyes astonished, "Kid, you are one piece of work. Every sane person I know would be happy to stay the fuck away from this kind of fight, yet you're pissy that you can't join in. I knew from Roxie that you had balls, but I never thought you were downright suicidal. If you think you might be interested, I'm sure we can open up a spot for internship in our lair sometime, we could use another crazy rookie on the team."

"I'm not nuts, I just want to fight. He's saved me twice already, it's time I repaid the favor."

"There is no way in hell I'm going to let you do that yo, it's my job to keep you safe. Axel and Roxie will kill me if anything happened to you, and Tseng wants you out of the way to avoid a hostage situation."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"'S not up to you. I will tie you to a chair on Thursday if you won't agree to cooperate."

Answering with nothing but a snide "Kinky," the blond kept walking, mulling over how to slip away unnoticed. Even if something did happen, that Friday was a teacher workday, so he wouldn't have to worry about school. Now all he needed was the time of the fight.

"Hey Reno, do you guys know the set time for it?"

"Yeah, it's in our records yo, we'd have a hell of a time managing to clean up the mess if we didn't know what time it was going down in the first place. Not that you'd ever be able to get them."

If he remembered correctly, Tseng, the leader of the Turk division of detectives, was one of his mother's friends. He'd been called in for evaluation after it was suspected he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder due to the brutal way in which his friends and companions were killed and the violent life he'd led. After that they'd kept contact, sometimes he'd wake up to her steady voice downstairs talking him through things. He was certain he could get his scheming parent to coerce the exotic cop.

He arrived home and the annoying redhead bid his farewells, though the younger doubted he was actually going very far. Hayner wouldn't put it past him to hang around outside his house all night just to make sure no rival gang members showed up to kidnap him or something. Later that night Mrs. Dincht made a phone call to the reserved detective Tseng, and after pointing out that he owed her a few favors for the hours of sleep she'd lost helping him, he reluctantly gave her the exact hour of the skirmish. Apparently able to skip work for this sort of thing, the Disciplinary Committee leader had set the time for five-thirty.

The next two days passed at a grind and he didn't even feel bad that he wasn't paying attention to much of anything. There were only about two weeks of school left after this one, not counting the final exam days the week after that since seniors didn't take finals in his high school. At this point, no one aside from Olette was paying attention, though she did try her best to get the rest of the group to take notes and slog the rest of the way through the time before they could be rid of this hellhole.

Finally Thursday rolled around. As he picked up his backpack, his mother gave him a goodbye hug and slipped a 4-inch switchblade into his pocket, telling him to be careful. She knew there was no way in hell she could stop him from joining the fight and wanted him to be ready when he did.

He walked to school with the spiky-haired annoyance on his heels, absently gripping the outline of the weapon through the fabric of his cargo pants. If he wasn't paying attention in class before, he was practically in a coma now, scribbling vaguely in his notebooks when he should have been taking notes on something about molecular stability or calculating a certain probability. Roxas repeatedly asked if he was okay, to which he always returned that he was preoccupied. Still suspicious, he continued to look at his best friend oddly until they split ways in the place that would soon likely be peppered with bloodstains.

This time the lanky former Turk hung around once they reached the shorter boy's home trailing behind his charge like he was worried the brown-eyed teen would bolt if he didn't keep an eye on him. Which was precisely what he planned to do. An hour passed of him watching TV while coming up with some way to get away. Finally coming up with something that was entirely illegal and would probably net him prison time in a normal situation, he just hoped the thug-turned-detective wouldn't arrest him for assaulting an officer when all this was said and done. Once the clock read five-twenty he was ready to do one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever done in his short life.

"Reno, why can't you just leave and join up with the Disciplinary crew to fight? I'm not going anywhere, and it's physically impossible for the Ragnaroks to be in two places at once, so it's not like they'll bother me here," the teen said once they were in the kitchen, ostensibly so the student could grab something to drink.

"I've got to follow my orders yo. Tseng says to stick with you no matter what, so even if I could be more useful elsewhere I'm damn well staying here. I used to be one of the lowlifes back in high school, despite my father's keen disapproval, Tseng's the one who dragged me out of that shit and made me a respectable member of society. I'll be damned if I'm going to disobey the orders of the man who gave me a life, helped me earn back the respect of my father and little brother."

"He said to keep an eye on me? Well," he began as he grabbed the nearest pot with his good hand, noticing that the man's back was finally turned, towards the sound of the neighbor's dog barking, "Catch me if you can."

Swinging the cooking utensil with carefully calculated force (he didn't want to kill the man or even knock him out, just knock him down), he clocked the cop in the head with it, dropped it and ran as the lanky body hit the floor. Grabbing his board as he ran out the door, he couldn't help but laugh as he threw it in front of him and took off in the direction of the Sandlot, a full fifty feet stretching between him and the emerging cop.

"You fucking idiot, get your scrawny ass back here!"

Unable to keep up with the skater, he fell out of Hayner's sight five minutes later. Nearing the blond bully's turf, he already heard the sounds of fighting. Apparently they'd started the party early. Stopping off in an alley used to dump random bits of scrap metal (the denizens of Twilight town were an odd bunch, leaving trash lying around in alleys instead of picking it up half of the time) and picking up a metal pipe about two inches in circumference, about the length of a struggle bat. Turning, he stopped dead when the famous electromag rod was jabbed into his chest.

"You are one of the craziest fuckers I have ever met in my life," the panting man began seriously, before his face lightened, "But since I just ran all the way here, and you are clearly too nuts to listen to reason, we might as well have some fun yo. Two rules: Don't get killed, and don't kill anyone else. The last one is optional."

Grinning, the tall redhead turned, ponytail swinging at the motion before he moved out of the cramped walkway and towards the not-so friendly gang meeting. Toeing his board under some long-undisturbed sheet metal, the senior chased after him. What he found when he arrived at the site of countless struggle matches was pure chaos. Fuu was holding back five guys with what appeared to be a wall of air while Rai tried to fight off three large scumbags, two of which had knives. Seifer, being the cocky bastard that he was, was trading blows with seven men in the center, all of which were at least in their mid-twenties and muscular. Reno immediately rushed to help him.

"Well, if it isn't Seifer's little bitch. Decided to show up to your boyfriend's funeral? How loyal."

Turning towards the sneering voice, he saw a man who looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties with a black ducktail haircut. He'd been leaning against the wall of one of the buildings surrounding the lot, now striding over to him. Two of his front teeth were chipped, his smile malicious. He made a grab for the smaller male.

A loud metallic clang assailed his ears as the strong lead pipe connected with the thug's skull, propelled by the power of adrenaline and blind rage. The limp body fell forward. He didn't care whether these people lived or died, they were trying to kill the man he loved and he'd be damned if he was going to roll over and let them do as they pleased. Hard eyes searching for signs of consciousness, guessing the man wasn't going to get back up from the blood slowly leaking from his ear. His well-muscled back rose and fell, so at least the lowlife was still alive.

"Hayner?!"

Face softening, the senior turned towards the stunned Seifer, twenty feet away and staring at him in disbelief. A tall, lithe man with dark blond hair charged into him from behind just as the high school student opened his mouth to shout a warning. Landing on all fours like a large cat, the blue-eyed teen pushed up with his arms with enough force to right himself. Turning, he was beginning the motion of blocking the next punch when the assailant halted, twitched, and fell to the ground. Grinning like a madman, having taken the enemy blond out with his crackling mag rod, Reno chuckled a bit before facing the rest of the pack that was surrounding them.

"Hayner, go help Fuu, be careful," the leader of the smaller gang barked roughly before turning to his adversaries.

Glancing at the cluster of fighters the silver-haired woman was just barely managing to hold off with a combination of magic and powerful kicks, he decided the best course of action would be to run at them and hope for the best. Not the best strategy, but he didn't exactly have time to think. Channeling all his pent up anger and frustration, he ran the approximately fifty feet to the other side of the arena and used his momentum to add more power to his swing.

Blood sprayed in an arc as the enemy roared with pain and lost his footing, nose smashed. Clutching his face in agony, he gasped and exhaled sharply for a few seconds before stilling where he'd fallen. Either he was playing dead, in too much pain to get back up and fight, or he had just passed out. At this point, the adrenaline-fueled blond didn't really care, mentally marking him as nothing more than an obstacle to be avoided. As the two of the remaining four advanced on him his grip on the blunt metal object tightened reflexively. At this point, the fight felt almost like a surreal, deadly game of struggle, the weapon a comforting weight in his hand.

The two men were both of medium build, one had a shock of neon yellow hair tied back into a stubby ponytail, the other had green hair and startlingly blue eyes, a murderous glint to them. A short stiletto knife danced in the hand of the blue-eyed thug as they stepped over the body of their unmoving comrade. The unarmed scum came at him first, heavy right hook easily dodged. As he was ducking to avoid the meaty fist, a knee slammed into his chin from out of nowhere and his head snapped back. Landing on his ass, he snarled like a feral animal and kicked upwards, landing a strong hit to the fake-blond's nuts.

The sandy-blond had to roll quickly in order to avoid being crushed by the older man, who toppled like a felled tree. Springing to his feet, he eyed the green-haired man warily, glad Fuu had slowly lured the other two members of the small pack farther away so he had room to fight.

"So brat, gotta death wish? I can grant that for you real quick," the knife-wielding man said, his voice raspy and rough.

"I don't, but you obviously do, trying to take on Seifer on his own territory."

"He was asking for it, strutting around like he owns this town. We don't like cock-sure pipsqueaks who don't care about anything but themselves. You think he actually cares about you? He doesn't. He only looks out for number one and those two lackeys of his who practically worship the ground he walks on. You're nothing to him-"

His speech was brought to a screeching halt by a metal pipe coming in contact with his ribs, just below the arm that was raised to brandish the glinting knife. A sickening series of cracks that brought back memories of a nasty night nearly two weeks ago issued forth from the impacted area. A scream of pain so ripe with feeling it made Hayner hurt for a moment issued forth from the gang member's lips as he hit the ground. Prone, immobile and silent, the once-dangerous man was now about as menacing as a teddy bear.

Finished with the two Ragnarok crew members, he whirled to see if Fuu or Rai needed more help. The slight girl seemed to have her hands full with the two large fighters that were slowly backing her into a corner, and just as he was about to join the fray one dark red eye zeroed in on him in horror.

"BEHIND YOU!"

He had precisely enough time to turn his head before something grabbed the back of his dark green shirt. He was thrown against the nearby wall, breath escaping him in a gusty grunt of pain. A large, calloused hand encircled his neck and dragged him up the hard surface, feet dangling above the ground. The first man of the group he had thought he'd taken out sneered in his face before using his free hand to slam Hayner's right wrist against the cement. His weapon fell from temporarily nerveless fingers to land on the ground, hopelessly far away. Fighting the rising feeling of panic, he attempted to kick the bloody thug in the groin.

Using the same hand he'd disarmed his opponent with, the lowlife gang member caught his foot. The pressure on his throat tightened until he couldn't get air past it, terror gripping him even harder as his vision blackened. A high-pitched shout that he could only guess was his name pulled him back long enough for his body to go into action. His right hand, previously dangling uselessly at his side, dove into his pocket, finding the sought after last-resort. Finding the release for the blade through what could only be described as a miracle, he drove it into the would-be killer's chest.

Something sticky, hot, and wet ran down his hand as he twisted the blade, mind propelling his body to do whatever it could to cause enough damage to the predator trying to kill the blond. The hand around his neck fell slack and he dropped to the ground in a limp heap, losing hold of the knife and hearing another body thudding heavily close by. Gasping, blood roaring in his ears as it began circulating anew, he blinked rapidly until his vision returned. Feeling like he'd just been doused with liquid oxygen, his body went stone cold when he saw the blood on his hands and looked over to the dead body of the person who'd nearly ended his life, knife sticking out of their chest.

Immediately turning away and retching, he tried to block the image of the person he'd just killed. Even if it was entirely justifiable and largely unintentional (survival instincts were impossible to disobey), it sickened him to think he'd just actually taken someone's life. Getting up shakily, he stumbled ten feet in the opposite direction of everyone else and promptly collapsed, curling into a ball and pretending none of it had happened.

Within a few minutes the sounds of brawling had stopped, aside from the occasional groan. He heard a few sets of footsteps in the sand coming his way and kept his eyes closed, hoping Seifer and the rest of them would just go away. He didn't want the person he loved seeing him like this, or anyone else for that matter. No such luck.

"Hayner?"

Getting no response from the tightly-curled, bloodied ball of blond senior, ice blue eyes turned toward the silver-haired fighter. Fuu was female, and they were supposed to be good with feelings, right? Crimson eye rolling at his utter incompetence, she pushed him towards the terrified younger teen, her voice disturbingly soft, "He needs you."

Not being the best with words, especially ones of comfort, he opted for the physical approach. Kneeling next to the heart-wrenchingly broken boy, he gently coaxed him out of his armadillo-like position, much like he had after the brown-eyed boy had the nightmare. It was slower going this time, the tense muscles less responsive under his ministrations. Once his body was nearly straight instead of folded double, he suddenly jerked up and latched onto the scarred teen, burying his face in the black shirt Seifer was wearing.

Surprised by the abrupt crushing affection but unperturbed, the older blond returned the embrace, telling his image-conscious side to go screw itself in a corner for a while. Resting his chin in the stiff nest of sandy hair, he ran his fingers in circles down the tightly clenched muscles of Hayner's back. Looking back at the others, he saw that both Reno and Rai were watching the beaten bodies with intense, forced interest, effectively giving him privacy. Fuu on the other hand was looking straight at him, her single visible eye gleaming with approval, proud of him for being able to shed his immense ego when it was necessary.

"We should get you home soon, your mother is going to kill me."

"C-Can I please...stay with you? For the night? I don't think I could sleep..." Even though his voice was choked and muffled, the other could hear the unspoken 'alone' that should have ended the sentence. It was said in exactly the right weak and scared tone to make him say yes before his brain even processed the request. Lifting the smaller teen into his arms bridal-style, he heard the former leader of the Turks approach before he saw him.

"This is one hell of a mess Seifer, you really outdid yourself this time. Though I am impressed that all of you seem to bear no serious injuries."

"I'm not in the mood for conversation Tseng. Come up with something to explain away the dead guy so Hayner doesn't have to go to court, even if it was self-defense. You owe me for taking these guys down for you."

"It seems many people are calling in favors of me lately. But yes, I'll take care of this, just get the hell out of here already."

Not needing to be told twice, the Disciplinary Committee headed away from the scene, their leader still favoring his leg almost imperceptibly. Saying goodbye to his closest friends at their apartment complex, he shifted the now-sleeping skater in his arms before beginning the fifteen-minute walk to his own home. He had a feeling life was only going to get more difficult from here, but for now he had a cute brown-eyed senior to put back together.

**Hey. It's me. The eternally silent authoress. I don't normally do author's notes, but I'm going to be LEAVING for vacation for a week, then immediately upon my return packing my bags again and leaving the next day for journalism camp at MSU for a few days. I will be back the 7th, may answer some reviews the 2nd. In a nutshell, this means it will be three WEEKS or more before the sixth and most likely final installment of this fanfic. I made this chapter super-long and the ending eventful to try to make up for the long wait. I apologize if this chapter wasn't what you wanted/expected, but rest assured the next one will be literary gold (Ha). I probably won't get to any of your reviews before I leave early tomorrow, but I love you all with the intensity of thousands of white hot stars roughly the size of Vega. 333**


	6. Chapter 6

-1 Midway from Fuu and Rai's apartment and his own, Seifer nearly dropped his sleeping passenger when the smaller teen's cell phone went off in his pocket, on vibrate. Unexpectedly having something small and square buzzing against his abs did nothing to calm his after-battle nerves, and having to fish around in Hayner's pants for the damn thing in the middle of the sidewalk was awkward at best. Finally retrieving the device, he dumped his charge on a nearby bench, being unable to balance the fairly tall boy in one arm. Flipping the phone open, he answered it, knowing without even looking at the ID that there could only be one person calling, considering his terrible luck.

"Seifer, why are you answering my son's phone? Is my baby okay? And the answer damn well better be yes."

Oh how he loved dealing with irate mothers, "Physically, he's fine. His throat might bruise and he might be sore for a few days, but nothing new is broken. He's sleeping right now."

"You do know when you say he's physically okay, you imply he is not mentally healthy?"

"He killed someone, they were trying to strangle him to death."

There was a long pause, during which he could practically hear the cogs of the almost-scary smart woman's mind turning. He expected shock, for her to demand to see him immediately, for her to yell at him for being unable to protect her son. Instead, when she finally answered her voice was calm, though it was clearly forced, "How did he react?"

Instinctively knowing that if he attempted to lie to make her feel less panicked about the mental state her son was in she'd know instantly and assume the worst, he decided to continue to take the blunt and straightforward approach, "Threw up, curled up into a ball and asked to stay with me for the night when I managed to pry him out of his favorite defensive position."

"Do you think you can handle him by yourself? He can be extremely unpredictable and could react violently."

"I don't know, but for now I'll just have to try. I offered to take him home, but he wanted to stay at my place instead, I think it's what he needs right now. No offense to you."

"None taken, if that's what he wanted, it most likely really is the best thing for him. Maybe for the both of you."

If there was someone he knew he'd never be able to completely figure out, Mrs. Dincht was that person. She had a way of making every conversation slightly uncomfortable by seeming to know more about you than you knew about yourself. You couldn't lie to her, couldn't hide any aspect of your personality from her for long, and it seemed like even from distances she could pick up on what you weren't saying.

"How do you figure?"

She sighed heavily, the exact way a mother exasperated with a slow or mischievous child would, "I'm not stupid, I know you love him, though you do have the strangest way of showing it."

He would have dropped the phone if his muscles even had enough sense left to react. It was fucking impossible that the blond mother had managed to figure it out that quickly. He just hoped she hadn't told her son, he wanted to let Hayner know on his own terms.

"Don't act so surprised. I'm fairly amazed that anyone could miss it if they knew what to look for. Even Roxas put two and two together after seeing you two interact for a day."

"Am I really so obvious?"

"Not verbally, no. It's more your actions. For one, you've made it clear you have no qualms about sleeping next to him. You're very much physically oriented as far as how you display affection, from what I can tell. I'm at a loss as to how Hayner hasn't picked up on it."

"Probably because he's too lost in his own crush."

The psychologist laughed, "You're most likely spot on. I don't think it's quite the way you see it though. I'd better let you go, I have a Turk to call and you have duties of your own."

"How did Hayner manage to slip out of the house? Tseng said he didn't want him anywhere near the Sandlot."

"No clue, though I'm certain it probably wouldn't be legal in a normal situation. Why don't you ask him once he's stable?"

"Which will be never, if you haven't noticed, he's moody as hell."

"That's half the reason you two get along so well. Good luck Seifer, screw up and I will come after you. Bye!" She added in a cheery voice before hanging up. Blinking at just being threatened by someone's mother and called a moody bitch (albeit indirectly), he snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into his newest responsibility's pocket. Lifting the lithe blond once again, he rolled his left shoulder a bit in an attempt to get it to stop complaining before setting off towards his destination.

After a few seconds the sleeping boy appeared to find him a suitable source of heat, snuggling into his chest cutely. It was oddly cold outside considering it was summer and the sun was still up, even if it was obscured by clouds. Glancing off to the west, he noticed a dark front moving slowly across the sky that served as explanation for the subnormal temperature. Icy eyes narrowed, he quickened his pace. He didn't feel like getting caught in the rain at the moment.

Just entering the building as the first downpour started with enthusiasm, he sighed resignedly before beginning the slow trek up the stairs with the brown-eyed senior in tow. Finally reaching his door, he fumbled for his key while balancing Hayner against the wall. The slow beat of rain on the roof above drowned out the sound of the lock clicking on the door. Shoving the noticeably worn key back into his front pocket, he dumped the slumbering male on the couch and immediately set about shutting all the windows. The wind was starting to kick up and it would soon be strong enough to blow the rain right into them. He didn't need a wet living space to go along with his other problems.

Looking over to make sure his companion wasn't showing any signs of waking, he went into his room long enough to remove his bloodied shirt, gloves and heavy boots. As an afterthought he pulled off his beanie and ruffled his hair irritably. Not caring that it stuck up in odd places, he walked back into the living room that was the center point of the domicile. A second cursory glance in the other occupant of the room's direction revealed that there was still blood on his hand. Knowing that if he'd just killed someone for the first time he wouldn't want to wake up to find their blood on his hands, he headed into the bathroom for a dark washcloth.

Once the dried blood was removed, Seifer threw the cloth into the kitchen sink and moved to stand by the window near the couch. Watching the forceful summer squall from such a high vantage point was immensely satisfying to his roiling psyche. He stared out on the distant lightning bolts and pelting rain, letting the worry he felt for the boy he loved be overcome by the anger he felt towards himself for not protecting him better. There had only been three people he needed to watch out for in the fight, and he had failed one of them miserably. If it hadn't been the senior's survival instinct kicking in and an easily accessible switchblade, he would have died. It was a crushing defeat for the bully that he hadn't been able to stop the whole thing from happening in the first place.

The lightning was nearer now, and the rolling thunder suited his increasingly dark mood. At some point he had jammed his fists into his pockets and was currently toying with the key and cell phone inside them. Eyes leveling a glare at the world, he rotated his shoulder again, the ache a reminder of his failure. When the thug had thrown the tanned skater up against the wall Seifer had indeed tried to go to his aid. One of the two adversaries left standing in the group he'd taken on had used his sudden distraction to grab his arm as he tried to go to his comrade. The combination of momentum and the strength of the gang member had resulted in the blue-eyed blond's left arm being jerked out of the socket.

Even if he was used to dislocations, the shock of pain had still brought him to his knees, and it took precious seconds to manipulate the limb back into place. By then the Ragnarok member was practically on top of him and had to be fended over before any further progress could be made. As he kicked the guy off of him, Fuu had screamed in panic (which generally meant you were well and truly fucked, since she was not the screaming type), and he whipped around to see the two fall apart. He still couldn't believe that the senior had killed someone, even if it had been a matter of survival.

One particularly close arc of lightning struck the lightning rod on the office building next to them, the shockwave rocking the entire building. Blinking away the temporary blindness caused by the incredibly bright light, he heard rustling from the direction of the couch. Another flash illuminated the room and the accompanying blast of thunder was met with a surprised squeak. The scarred blond couldn't help but bust out laughing at the meek sound the normally proud teen had made.

"Shut up, I don't like thunderstorms."

"You are such a girl. Little kids and overly jumpy dogs are the only ones who are bothered by a little storm."

"Fuck you, the building is shaking, this is not a light st-" The next electric bomb hit its target with an explosion of light and sound, somewhere to the right of the building, and suddenly the power went out. Less powerful flashes from the clouds served as their only illumination, the short glimpses unnerving. Even in the dark he could see how wide the scared high school student's eyes were. Not sure how to combat the fear the other boy was clearly feeling, he plopped down on the couch next to him, in the spot that had been freed up when Hayner sat up.

"Any idea how long this is going to last?" To his credit, his voice was both the normal tone and didn't shake.

"All night, from what the morning weather report said. It's supposed to lighten up around midnight to just rain. Gonna be a fun night for you, isn't it?" He said, smirking and earning himself a light punch in the arm. It reminded him that at some point, he'd need to teach the pipsqueak how to fight properly. At least the younger blond already had struggle techniques down pat, and had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he knew his way around a metal pipe. It was a good start, but he'd never get anywhere if he didn't learn how to watch his back and fight hand-to-hand.

"How are you holding up?" His voice was suddenly serious, dark-adjusted eyes taking in the sandy-haired teen's slumped position and that he refused to make eye contact.

"I don't know. No matter how you look at it, there's no way to avoid acknowledging that I killed someone. I feel sick."

This was one of those rare instances where he had the sudden urge to hug someone, and it was damn hard to beat back down. Hayner's voice was heavy with a cocktail of emotions he didn't even want to begin to name and the younger student seemed so vulnerable that Seifer's chest felt like someone had just hammered nails into it. Just as he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of how it wasn't the slight male's fault, the latter's cell phone went off.

He looked at the number and stood up and walked over to the wall separating the living room from the kitchen, saying he had to answer it and wanting some privacy. Wincing and pulling the phone away from his ear when he was met with what sounded like a scream of "You fucking idiot", he waited for the person on the other end to calm down before he replied simply "Hello to you too, Roxas."

Tuning out the rest of the conversation out of respect for his charge's privacy, he instead studied the skater's body language. Shoulders slumped more than normal, and one of his arms had unconsciously wrapped itself around his midriff. His eyes in particular worried the larger man, whenever they were illuminated by the storm outside they looked broken. The blue-eyed man had never seen him this way before, and never wanted it to happen again. It seemed lately all his top priorities had to do with the senior as of late. Snapping out of his musings when the subject of his observation closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, he watched the tired teen lean against the wall and sigh.

It had taken mere moments, but Seifer was already fed up with the smaller boy's guilt. Screw meaningful conversations, he was going to force his crush to understand that what had happened was not something he should blame himself for. Eyes narrowed angrily, he strode over to where the eighteen year-old was resting, slamming his hands flat against the wall on either side of the shorter boy's head. Bodies almost touching, he leaned down an inch or so, eye-level with him.

"Hayner, I'm only going to say this once, so pay the fuck attention. What happened today was not your fault. Sure, your hand drove the knife into his chest, but you were barely even conscious at the time, your body was reacting on pure instinct. You couldn't have stopped yourself even if you had been physically capable of trying. Secondly, if you hadn't killed that scum, he would have killed you. Do you really think he would have lived after that? You did him a favor, he died quickly. If he had killed you, I would have broken most of the bones in his body before I finally let him die. Maybe you didn't believe me when I said I really did care about you, but I do, and I wouldn't have taken your murder sitting down."

After practically pinning the sandy-blond to a wall and preceding to yell at him, the last thing he expected was for the teen to hug him. Regardless of how little it made sense, slender arms encircled his waist and Hayner's chin rested comfortably on his shoulder. Maybe for once he'd actually done something right. Unaccustomed to physical contact that wasn't some form of brutality, he hesitated before returning the embrace. They must have stayed like that for over a minute, and even then it was the younger who broke the contact. He dropped his arms and backed away the few inches to the wall, thanking Seifer quietly.

Feeling abruptly cold from the loss of contact, the bully just nodded numbly. Noticing that the temperature in the apartment had dropped substantially in the short time since the power went out and the heat had shut off, he made a quick trip into his room to get both himself and his subtly shivering companion a suitably warm article of clothing. Maybe he was just possessive, but he liked the way his dark red hoodie looked on the skinny teen. It was large enough that someone could tell it wasn't the wearer's, but wasn't so huge as to be comical.

"The way you're staring gives me the sneaking suspicion I look like an idiot."

"And since when did you care about appearances? If it makes you feel better, you look no more idiotic than normal."

"Gee, thanks. Really appreciate the backhanded compliments. Would it kill you to say something without the insults next time?"

"Yes, it would."

Large brown eyes rolled in response, halting on the floor to their right. He couldn't see their expression, but from the lithe senior's stance, he could tell the other was thinking too much again. It was going to take a while for him to come to terms with the events of the past few hours, but for now Seifer could at least try to distract him from dwelling on them for too long.

"You know that guy you knocked out when you first ran in?"

"Yeah, what about him?" The shorter blond asked, head tilting to the side the tiniest bit in question.

"He was actually the leader of the crew. He must not have been expecting you to fight back, I can't imagine any other way you could have dropped him that easily. Without their leader to shout instructions, they pretty much fell apart after that. You made things quite a bit easier for us, especially by bringing along Reno. How did you manage to get out of the house under his watch?"

Smiling mischievously he answered, "I hit him in the back of the head with a sauce pot and ran. He couldn't keep up because I was on my board the second I got out the door. I left it under a piece of sheet metal in the alley next to it where everyone seems to dump their trash."

Trying and failing to keep from laughing at the mental image of the brown-eyed blond whacking the redheaded detective with a cooking utensil, he had to admire the resourceful male. He didn't know many people who would assault an officer just to run into a street fight and offer what help they could give. It was also impressive that he had convinced Reno to join in afterwards.

"Wow, that's gonna be circulating around the station for a while. 'Reno taken down on duty by scrawny teenager with a household object'. Elena and Rude are going to give him no end of shit for that."

"I tried to convince him to help you guys, but he refused because he was under orders to stay near me no matter what. I just fixed his problem by throwing myself into the fight. He'd have to help in order to fulfill his duty of keeping me safe. I'm just surprised my plan actually worked."

"Not bad, for a chicken-wuss."

He ignored the comment in favor of asking a question, "Are you just skipping work today? You're supposed to be on the clock right now, aren't you?"

"How the hell do you know my hours? Or even that they were set?" He affixed the slighter boy with a stare, not knowing whether to be angry that the kid was near stalkerish in his knowledge of Seifer's schedule, or happy that he cared enough to find out.

"Roxas told me a little while ago. He got it from Axel who got it from Demyx, who coerced Zexion into telling him. There really isn't much you can keep from them, especially Axel."

"You have a lot of disturbing connections Hayner...While on the subject, how did you figure out what time the fight was in the first place? Did you get Axel to play the little brother card with Reno or something?"

"No, though that was my second plan. I just got Mom to call in a favor with Tseng. They have what one might call a professional friendship. He owed her, and I don't think he expected me to be able to get away from Reno, so it wouldn't have done me much good, or so he thought."

From a purely business standpoint, convincing the struggler to join the Disciplinary Committee would be an obvious move. He'd not only get someone he could trust in a rough fight (anyone who would throw themselves into a life-threatening situation without being asked was trustworthy to him), but he'd get all the connections the senior had already established as well. But he had his honor and his pride, and he wasn't about to push someone into a position of danger without being sure they wanted to be there. Especially someone he loved.

"It's mildly frightening to learn your mother has the leader of the Turks twisted around her finger like that. Especially since he's with the mayor's son, who will likely be aiming for his father's job in the next few years."

"You know about Rufus and Tseng?"

"Most people who associate with the Turks get wind of it sooner or later. It's kept fairly quiet though, Tseng is worried that being gay might hurt the little prince's chances of election. I doubt it though, the biggest obstacle Rufus will have to overcome is his age. He's four years younger than Tseng, and at twenty-five, a lot of people think he's too young to be running for office next year as he plans to. He's old enough to be mayor legally, but the public would tend to disagree."

The only response he got was a blank stare, followed by a couple of surprised blinks. It amazed him that he could render the high school student speechless by doing something as simple as expressing a mildly intelligent insight into politics. Maybe he'd done too good a job of acting the idiotic thug in public. At least Hayner was adorable when he was startled, similar to when he was scared or angry. He really needed to come up with a new adjective for the dark-eyed teen, cute was beginning to seem inadequate to describe him.

There was an apprehensive look on the other's face was becoming recognizable as the one he wore just before saying something important. It was as if he had to mull over how he was going to word something for a few seconds before finally spitting it out. Being impatient by nature, it aggravated Seifer just a little bit, as well as the idea that the eighteen year-old was worried about saying the wrong thing. It made him feel unapproachable, which (at least with him) was not what the scarred man was going for.

"You said before that you were thinking about letting me join the Disciplinary Committee, but you didn't want to put me in danger with the Ragnarok crew closing in. Does the offer still stand?"

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't damn surprised the traumatized blond still wanted into the life the trio of fighters lead, but it was quickly overshadowed by a feeling of approval, "If you're interested. And don't think things will always be that easy. You WILL get the living shit beat out of you, and you'll have to agree to let me teach you how to fight, which will be less than pleasant. That said," he paused, deciding whether or not to admit how much he wanted this, "I'd appreciate the help. I'd even go so far as to say I'd be happy to have you on the team."

The small smile that played on his healed lips was enough to tell the leader of the Disciplinary crew the answer before he opened his mouth to say that he'd be glad to join. Their eyes met, both trying so hard to read the other that the younger didn't even start at the next loud rumble of thunder. Something passed through brown eyes before their owner restarted an older conversation, "You never answered my question. Are you skipping work right now?"

"Not really. Zex and a few of the older employees are working today and tomorrow, they'll be more than enough to take care of the shop. I was expecting to be out of commission for at least a day, and I don't really feel like telling them I'm okay yet. I'll just claim blunt head trauma kept me down tomorrow, no big. Mickey, or Mike as his nametag says, is a fairly lenient guy, he lets me take time off work for this sort of thing. Might be the fact that I've gotten his wallet back the last three times he was mugged though," the ice blue-eyed teen added thoughtfully.

"Won't they notice you went to classes though? Zexion goes there, I'm sure he'll see you."

He smirked, "Who said I was attending classes tomorrow? Fuu and Rai are in all my classes, they'll take the notes for me while I stay home and take care of a few things."

"What kind of things?" The other prodded curiously.

"You, for one. There's no way you can tell me you're really back to normal already. You don't get over these things quickly, if you get over them at all."

Despite his best efforts to appear stronger than he felt, narrow shoulders sagged and he looked away, seemingly unable to meet the fighter's gaze. Seifer felt the slightest bit bad for revisiting the disturbing events of little more than an hour ago so soon, but then again the first step was admitting you had a problem, right?

"Have you ever killed someone, Seifer?" The sandy-haired senior asked, still staring a hole into the floor to the left of his foot.

"Three. The first one was in a particularly bad scrape two years ago, Fuu had been knocked unconscious and Rai had a broken leg. All that was left of the Excalibur crew was their leader. I was bleeding from a few puncture wounds in my abdomen, so I had to get rid of him quickly before I passed out. He was a great fighter and twice as large as I was. I got under his next punch and drove a knife I'd grabbed off another one of the members up into his throat. That was around when the cops, especially the former Turks, started showing interest in us.

"Once they figured out that we were in it for the same reasons they were, to clean up the streets, we started working closely with Tseng and the others to lure out gangs and beat the shit out of them. The detectives would then show up and take the bloodied lowlifes in for questioning, and often one of the scum on the lower rungs of the ladder would spill all their illegal doings and agree to testify in an exchange for a lighter sentence. It let the Turks focus on other troublesome factions, such as drug rings, while we took care of finding and capturing the gangs for them. Not as shiny as people would like to think, but it works."

"Did you just take it in stride, when you killed someone the first time?" Chocolate eyes were on him once again, given courage by the knowledge that the older man understood, at least somewhat, what he was going through.

A wry laugh, "I'd have to be some kind of crazy to just pretend like killing someone wasn't an issue. I felt sick for a week. After a while I just recognized that under the right circumstances, anyone, from a child to a little old lady, can become a killer. I was protecting the people important to me, and myself. The person I killed had committed ten murders, among other various felonies, and he had no problems with killing me or my friends. I did what I had to. I don't regret it, and neither should you. There's nothing wrong with saving your own life."

Hands firmly stuffed into the large pocket on the front of the borrowed hoodie, the conflicted teenager seemed to consider this for a few minutes while the raging storm filled the silence between them. Shifting his weight onto his other leg for a while, he realized how odd they must look, standing in the middle of the dark living room with about five feet between them, not saying anything. It didn't matter that his bad leg was starting to ache from the strain of the day coupled with standing for a little too long, at this point, he'd be happy to hang upside-down from the ceiling fan while trying to drink tea if it helped his crush to recover. Because once Hayner was back to normal (or as close to normal as could be expected), the pain in Seifer's chest would probably go away and he'd be able to breathe normally again.

"Does it ever get easier?"

He was expecting the question at some point, but he didn't know if the answer would be what the senior was looking for, "No. You might not get sick next time, but it'll certainly haunt you for a while. If you started finding it easy to kill someone, you wouldn't be human anymore. But if anyone will be killing these idiots in the future, it's going to be me. I didn't want anyone else to learn what it was like to kill someone, and it definitely won't happen again if I have any say in it."

It was effectively an apology for failing to protect his charge from what had happened, and from the look on the attractive tanned face of the smaller male, they both understood that. Thirst for comprehension apparently quenched, all the energy the brown-eyed boy had been trying to hold onto fled in a breathy sigh. Worried he might just topple over from exhaustion, Seifer walked over and lifted him back into his arms. When the suddenly detached teen didn't raise a protest, the stronger male carried him over to the couch (did he ever mention how right it felt to hold and carry the lithe boy?) and set him down on the waiting furniture.

Settling down next to him, he opted for relaxing instead of attempting to make conversation with someone who was clearly too tired to participate. The dull patter of rain on the building coupled with the uneven rhythm of thunder was lulling, so it was hard to just lean back into the comfortable sofa and pretend like he didn't still need to make dinner. The power was out anyways, so that would have to wait.

After about an hour, during which he'd nearly dozed off three times only to have his alert companion jab him in the ribs lightly until he responded, the lights finally flickered back on. Groaning as unwelcome brightness flooded his eyes after such a long period of low light, he stood and stretched. A few of his vertebrae popped back into place and he lowered his arms with a heavy sigh. It was just one of those days.

"You hungry?" Blue eyes focused on the boy he was speaking to, getting a negative, to which he replied, "Too bad, you're going to eat something anyways."

Fumbling around the kitchen for fifteen minutes produced macaroni and cheese. Out of a box, but then again it was fairly short notice and he was a college student living on his own, he was supposed to live off food out of cans and boxes (even though he generally didn't). Shoving a lightly steaming bowl of it along with a fork into the skater's hands, he ordered simply, "Eat."

He knew how sick the senior was probably feeling right now, but it wouldn't help at all to let him skip a meal because of it. Maybe it was because he knew he had little choice in the matter, or he saw the sense in eating even if he didn't feel like it, but Hayner because grudgingly shoveling the simple fare into his mouth. Devouring his own meal, the temporary owner of the dwelling watched him out of the corner of his eye. Once the sandy-blond was done with his meal, a calloused hand reached over and thumbed off a bit of errant cheese to the right of his lips. Licking off his finger, Seifer smugly watched the other turn an interesting shade of pink. It was far too entertaining to taunt him.

Now that the heat was warming the apartment up again, the strong bully decided he'd be fine topless again and pulled off his sweatshirt. Battle-trained ears picked up the small hitch in the younger teen's breathing that signified some part of him liked what he was seeing. Maybe he was a jerk for flaunting himself in front of his newest crewmate, but really, who could blame him? Being able to fluster his crush with something as simple as taking his shirt off was a small victory in what was seeming an overly long fight to get the chocolate-eyed male to realize the older man liked him.

Sitting back down, he turned on the TV that was in the middle of the adjacent wall, the one between the living room and the bedroom. You had to angle yourself a little bit to watch it, but the well-built blond was used to having the couch to himself and usually leaned back against the farthest arm of the sofa. Flipping it over to the weather, he discovered that (surprisingly) the forecast hadn't changed since this morning. It was indeed supposed to continue raining through the night. Disappointed with the uncooperative weather, the smaller of the two snuggled further down into the large hoodie and glared at the offending reporter. Turning it off just as something about what 'appeared to be the aftermath of a gang confrontation' came on, the elder scoffed and tossed the remote onto the coffee table in front of them.

"So it's already on the news. Damn those nosey reporters are fast. Hope Tseng had time to tamper with some of the evidence before they got there. Wonder what his bullshit story is this time?"

"Does he always come up with excuses to get you guys into the clear?"

"Generally, yeah. Last time it was infighting among the group. That's the one he uses most, because it's the most common. On occasion it's even true, some gangs will totally wipe themselves out just because they're all greedy bastards looking out for themselves. It's kind of funny if you think about it. Like a pack of wolves suddenly turning around and eating each other. Idiots."

"Haven't you three ever gotten into a fight over something?" The new Twilight Disciplinary Committee member queried.

"A few times. Usually it's Fuu or Rai telling me to be more careful or not put myself into the line of fire. It's like a guy can't take a bullet for his friend without getting yelled at afterwards."

"They're just worried about you, I can't blame them. You go around pretending like you're invincible, when everyone, including you, knows damn well that you're not. Your ego is going to get you killed."

"Better me than one of you," he retorted, a little softer than he had intended.

"I can't decided whether you're a selfish asshole or a selfless asshole. I don't know how those two put up with you all the time. You're always putting yourself in danger for other people, what the hell do you get out of it?"

It was intriguing the way the volatile boy always got so touchy when anything involving Seifer's life being in jeopardy was brought up, "Did it ever cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, I'm a decent person who likes to try and help out other people who are unable to get themselves out of bad situations? And I didn't hear you complaining the first two times I risked personal safety to save your sorry ass. I fight these gangs and act like such a dick all the time because it keeps the would-be murderers, rapists and kidnappers distracted, and eventually gets them off the streets for good. A better question would be, why the hell are you so eager and willing to join me if you don't agree with what I'm doing?"

He could feel his temper getting out of hand as he went on, and it took most of his self-control to keep his voice level down. If there was anyone that could get him riled up, it was Hayner. He tried to remember why he'd let himself get so emotionally involved with the scrawny senior, and came up wondering when the kid hadn't been on his mind in some way. Even when he'd been out of contact with his favorite victim, he'd usually find himself looking forward to facing him in the bi-monthly struggle tournaments, or seeing him at the skate park. That was probably the most startling realization, that, on some level, he'd always liked the fierce little punk.

He'd already dug himself too far into this hole to get out, he might as well keep digging and see if it would pay off.

"I do agree with what you're trying to do, I just wish you wouldn't be so fucking self-sacrificial about it. Actually give a damn about your own life, and not because I told you so, because you truly care about it and find it worth living. You're no good to anyone dead, so stop putting yourself in such life-threatening situations. You'll never accomplish your goal if you die halfway. There are a lot of people that look up to you for what you've done so far, it would crush them if you got killed by some coked up idiot with lucky aim. You're their hero."

If they were going to lay all their chips on the table, he might as well see if what everyone said was right, consequences be damned, "I'm your hero."

Eyelids lowering to half-mast, the other was silent for a moment before answering, "Yeah, you are. I'd hate you if you died. The Seifer I look up to wouldn't even consider getting offed because he drew too much attention to himself. He's smart enough to get the fuck out when he knows he can't handle the heat."

Whenever he thought the pansy couldn't surprise him with anything anymore, he threw a fucking grenade like that in the bully's lap. Now he had to shoulder the responsibility of being the dark-eyed blond's protector, mentor, leader AND hero. But if that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach stuck around, he thought it might not be all that bad. It was an amazing feeling to mean so much to someone you loved, even if they didn't love you back.

"You're right, I am. I've never gotten the crew into a situation so bad I thought our lives were in truly in danger, though I've come pretty close. You can trust me."

Seemingly satisfied with this, the high school student burrowed a little further into the warm hoodie. Mouth fully obscured from view now, he looked positively adorable with the sleepy look on his face. Like a cat that dug itself into the blankets until all that was poking out was part of its head. The weather outside was calm for now, a slow rain, between pockets of more severe thunderstorms.

"Is your leg fully healed yet?"

The question jerked him out of his thoughts, and for a second he'd wondered if he'd imagined it, since he couldn't see the speaker's mouth move. But then large, pretty brown eyes shifted over to affix him with a mildly interested stare.

"Not really, but it barely bothers me anymore. What about your arm and ribs?" It was still hard to believe he was making what could be considered somewhat serious small talk with the hot-blooded pipsqueak he used to barely speak to except for a few insults here and there.

"My arm is healing fine. I've learned to tolerate my ribs."

"So they still hurt like a bitch?" A curt nod from the questioned, "I'll wait until you've healed from prior injuries before I inflict new ones by training you."

He scoffed, "Thanks for being so damn considerate."

Even though the youngest Disciplinary Committee member said it with dripping sarcasm, the blue-eyed man had learned to see past it and could tell he was indeed appreciative of being granted a temporary reprieve. Far-off rumbles of thunder could be heard now, and the lithe blond tried and failed to contain the whine of complaint that escaped his lips.

Expert eyes assessed his physical reaction, watching the lean body tense sharply. Knowing if he'd just gone through hell, he wouldn't want to try to sort his weasel-fucked head out with a knotted back, he generously offered to give his companion a massage. It wasn't just an excuse to take his crush's shirt off and feel him up, really.

After eyeing him with suspicion for a few seconds, Hayner decided whatever his new leader had up his (currently nonexistent) sleeve was probably not bad enough to outweigh the benefits of a decent backrub. Nodding, he let Seifer tug off the hoodie and shirt underneath, shivering a bit at the sudden change in temperature. Tossing the unneeded articles of clothing aside for now, he immediately focused on the bare back of the senior on the couch next to him.

Strong hands flitting to his shoulders, the fighter wasted no time in digging into the overly-taught muscle there. When a small groan of pleasure slid from the smaller male's lips, the icy man was suddenly glad that his crew member's back was turned and that he was wearing baggy sweatpants.

As he moved down to the shoulder blades and middle back, he had to admit that no one had ever been able to affect him this way before, and it scared him a little. He was getting turned on just giving an underclassman a massage. If someone had told him that would happen even just a month ago, he would have beaten them into the ground until they made sense. Now he'd think it was weird if he wasn't physically attracted to his new crew member.

Every bright flash or loud crack of thunder, the muscles under his skilled fingers would clench just the slightest bit. Being able to literally feel the way the eighteen year-old's body reacted to stimulus felt incredibly intimate, he was being afforded a view of the skater that he doubted anyone (except maybe Roxas) had ever been allowed to see. It was uniquely thrilling.

He kept working on the extremely tense and knotted boy until his thumbs tired of the excessive exercise. By that time the brown-eyed teen had practically been rendered putty, and they both made a silent agreement that, storm or no, it was time to go to bed. Lifting the object of his affection, he lazily dragged the limp blond towards his bedroom. Dropping him on the edge of the bed and kicking the door closed, the well-muscled man began removing his pants for bed, watching Hayner do the same out of the corner of his ice-colored eye. He pulled off the socks he'd been padding around with, throwing them into the pile of clothes waiting to be washed.

Glad he always stopped to make his bed before he left for classes, the owner of the dwelling slipped into bed, followed quickly by the other. As if on cue, the weather outside increased in violence, the building vibrating anew from the shockwaves of the severe thunderstorm. Burying his face into the large pillow, the sandy-haired male made a low sound of aggravation.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer slid his right arm under the skinny blond and dragged their bodies together. Chocolate eyes searched icy ones in the dark before the weaker man threw caution to the wind and laid his head on a broad shoulder. Powerful arms wrapped around him, and he fell asleep before the hour was out.

Bright blue eyes shot open when he heard the lock on the door into his apartment being picked, the sound loud in the silence, even through his closed door. This was precisely why he was a light sleeper, occasionally someone broke in and tried to kill him in his sleep. Of course, normally he didn't have a high school student to protect as well. His marginally blurred vision didn't make matters any better.

Shaking the younger awake, he waited until Hayner had gotten up before guiding him to the partially open closet, shoving him in, and whispering for him to stay put and stay quiet until otherwise instructed. Shutting the door quietly, he heard the steady footsteps to his bedroom door and grabbed the .9mm pistol he kept, loaded, under his pillow. Pressing himself against the wall next to the hinges of the door, so the person entering wouldn't see him, he waited. The wooden slab swung open slowly, and once the silhouette of the trespasser could be seen, the large man shot out from behind the door. Grabbing the supposed attacker by the back of the collar and pressed the gun to the back of their head.

"You have three seconds to give me a reason not to kill you."

A smooth, cold voice answered him, "You'll get twenty-five to life for killing an on-duty officer."

"Shit Tseng, you creepy bastard. What the fuck are you doing breaking into my place? Do you even know what time it is?" He said as he slapped the gun down on the desk to the left of him and flicked on the light.

"It is three thirty-six in the morning, I'm well aware this is an unwelcome visit, but this was the only time I could think of to stop by and let you know that Reno is taking blame for the murder today, and that we've already gotten a few of the gang members to agree to testify in exchange for a lighter sentence. If I came over during the day, people would get suspicious, and god only knows I can't call you."

"They bug your phone again?"

"Yes. Being a Turk means going undercover a great deal, and sometimes my colleagues begin to wonder if it really is just an act. Rufus is understandably pissed off, but I can't always stick to only being his bodyguard."

"Yeah, the department seems pretty strapped for personnel lately," shifting his focus to the closet door, "Hayner, you can come out of there now." The door opened to reveal a very sleepy, mostly naked struggler, who glanced from one to the other questioningly. His green cast stood out starkly on his otherwise largely uncovered body.

"Why was there half-naked jailbait in your closet, Seifer?" The foreign detective asked, normally detached tone taking on a bit of humor. The 'jailbait' in question blushed and glared at him, clearly not happy with the name.

"I'm only a year younger than him!" He spat, brown eyes beginning to burn with a fire the bully had missed since the sobering experience yesterday afternoon.

"He was in there because you broke into my apartment, and I thought you were someone coming to kill me. It was the closest safe place."

Dark eyes swept over the skinny teen before the cop made a hum of agreement low in his throat, "Good idea. It would have taken me an extra minute to think of checking there, in which time you could have easily killed me had I been an assassin."

"Poor wording Tseng, you ARE an assassin."

"Only sometimes Seifer. Same way you're only sometimes a vicious gang leader. Only when it is necessary."

"These days it's almost never not necessary for me to be the gang leader rather than a college student with the part-time job. How many known organizations are left?"

"Six, the largest of which being the Bahamut crew, but you already knew that part. After this last fight, they might be looking to challenge you."

"Good thing we just picked up a new member then, isn't it?" The scarred man said with a proud smirk.

Almond-shaped eyes zeroed-in on Hayner, who straightened a bit and stared right back, dangerous eyes seeming to dare the officer to say something negative. After searching those depths for a few seconds, the oldest's mouth twitched into a small smile.

"It takes courage to sign onto one of the most life-threatening gangs in town after just killing someone for the first time. I have to say, I'm impressed. From what Reno says, you're not bad with kitchen utensils either. He also mentioned something about you being just the right kind of crazy to make a decent detective. I've got a hunch, and if you'd like to, come into the station sometime soon. You might make a good intern."

Crossing his arms over his well-defined chest, the blue-eyed blond tilted his head and gave Tseng a half-snarl that warned the other not to try anything funny with his blond firebrand. Brown eyes taking in his possessiveness with amusement, the ex-Turk looked back at the subject of the conversation, who said he'd think about it. Satisfied, he turned to leave before Hayner blurted, "How did you make it so it looked like Reno was the one responsible? My fingerprints were all over that knife."

"Simple. We removed your knife and replaced it with Reno's switchblade, which is of a similar design. The one you used was extremely common, so it was easy. We disposed of the real murder weapon by means I'd rather not explain to civilians, trustworthy or not. We're Turks, experts in the manipulation of crime scenes."

"Well that makes me feel safer."

Chuckling, he turned and left, locking the door to the home on his way out. Sighing tiredly and wondering if the point of the visit wasn't actually to attempt to lure the senior onto the police force. Hoping the supposed English major wouldn't go for it, he grabbed the gun and put it back in it's resting place. When he turned back, he was met with a look that he knew meant the smaller male wanted to talk.

"Is it really necessary to keep that there?"

"Ever try to take out an armed killer in the dark with nothing but your fists while half-asleep? It doesn't work so hot."

Blanching, he bit his lip and nodded, worry dampening the rebellious fire that had just seconds ago lit his eyes. Scowling, the older blond crossed the small distance between them and grabbed his chin, pulling the abused lip out. His fingers refused to release their light grip on the tanned flesh, and the blood-infused redness of the shorter man's lips made it really fucking hard not to lean down and kiss them. Realizing he had been looking at them for a little longer than he needed to in order to make sure they were okay, he lifted his eyes to meet their dark counterparts.

It was interesting how those large orbs seemed to search his own so often, he wondered what kind of answer the younger man got out of his endless hunting. He was never more grateful for those extra two or so inches of height over the sandy-haired skater than when he was up close like this. Eventually tiring of the heated staring contest, Hayner reached up to pull the strong, calloused hand away, lowering it and, unfortunately, remembering to let go. Sighing, he asked, "Can we just go back to sleep?"

Nodding, the fighter walked over to the wall to turn off the light and returned to the extremely welcoming mattress. This time, his companion snuggled up to him of his own volition. Finding it a welcome change, he rubbed the tension out of the slighter boy's neck before falling asleep once more.

Forcing his reluctant eyes to open, the thought that waking up with an attractive blond punk splayed on his chest was something he could get used to popped unbidden into his jumbled head. Except he hoped eventually they'd wake up this way without boxers. But that was probably just a pipe dream. Note to self: next time you fall in love with someone, make sure there's a chance they'll love you back.

Glancing at the clock, he nearly got up to smack it when it told him it was only six in the morning. A day off of classes and work, and his own body has to fuck it up for him by making him wake up early. It was even worse due to the late night disturbance. His eyes burned and he had a slight headache already. It was going to be impossible to go back to sleep like this.

Carefully removing the sleeping boy from him, he climbed out of bed and sighed heavily. It was going to be a long day. He put in his contacts before grabbing a pair of dark jeans and red boxers out of his drawer. Rolling his shoulder again, he dragged himself into the bathroom for an early morning shower. The hot water relaxed his tense muscles and temporarily allowed him to ignore his headache. Rubbing shampoo in his hair, he thought about how much things utterly sucked right now.

He had the man he loved sleeping in his bed right now, but it wasn't in the way he wanted it. He'd failed to protect Hayner from the atrocity of murder, and was failing at growing a pair and just telling the teen how he felt. And he still didn't fucking know who the other blond's crush was, though if he had his way he'd know by the end of the next struggle match with him. He didn't know what exactly he'd do with the information, but he'd have to do something, it was getting nigh impossible to avoid the urge to throw the smaller boy up against a wall and start molesting him. Really, it was what any sane person would do in this situation, the brown-eyed senior was too adorable not to.

He was amazed at how coordinated he was this early, he'd already finished cleaning himself in the time it took to muse on the biggest problem in his life right now. Sliding some conditioner through his hair so it wouldn't snarl as it dried, he turned off the water. Instantly missing the warmth, he dried quickly before the water on his body had a chance to cool further. Yanking on the clothes he brought with him, he smoothed his hair back until he was certain he wouldn't scare small children with it. Sneering at his own reflection's bloodshot eyes, he turned and exited the humid bathroom.

Opening an energy drink from the fridge (fuck coffee, he needed something stronger), he threw it back and chugged half of the sixteen ounce can. With nothing better to do, he sat at the kitchen table in silence and checked his upper body for bruising. Finding three discolorations on his abdomen from punches (or kicks) he couldn't even remember, he tested them to see the extent of the damage.

The angriest looking was a deep purple, about two inches in diameter, on his left side. It was aching dulling, right up until he chanced applying a little pressure. Biting down on the inside of his cheek hard enough that the slow sweetness of copper filled his mouth, he sucked in a breath through his nose to try to keep his cool. Well, that fucking hurt. Making a mental memo not to bump that any time in the next week. The others were a calmer blue color, when examined they produced very little pain, which was a good sign that the injuries sustained weren't very great. He had a feeling there was probably a bruise on his back from where the idiot had charged him from behind when he was distracted (and when wasn't he?) by Hayner as well.

In short, he was sore all over. His knuckles and legs especially, punching and kicking the crap out of someone wasn't as one-sided as it seemed as far as getting hurt went. Of course, his previously dislocated arm was quite happily bitching at him too. Cracking his neck a couple times, he took another swig of the beverage and crossed his arms on the table, laying his head on top of them. No matter how much he wracked his brain, everything after the other blond's arrival during the fight was a blur. A few bits of pain and glimpses of his own fists pummeling whoever was in front of him, but nothing terribly specific until the senior was being throttled.

The desperate, pained look on the boy's face was practically burned into his memory. When his eyes had closed and he'd started to go limp, the world might as well have been ending. Possibly the worst part of the whole ordeal was that Seifer had been unable to help in any way. It burned bitterly in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and pretended like he didn't have things to do today. Or maybe that one of the things he had to do today was the teen sleeping in his bed. A guy can dream.

"Seifer, can I borrow some of your clothes? My pants have blood on them, I think my shirt does too, I'd rather not put them back on."

Opening his eyes, he turned to see a nearly-naked Hayner in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. Not stopping to appreciate the view, mostly because it would be obvious and rude, two things he was trying hard not to be, he nodded sleepily. The equally exhausted younger teen disappeared again, presumably to get some clothes. Sitting up in his chair again, he took another sip of the drink in front of him. Rubbing his eyes again, he rested his head in his palm.

"You okay Seifer? You don't look very good." He walked up to the table, looking the part of a gang member in overly baggy pants and the loose-fitting hoodie he'd worn the night before. The look fit him better than his leader could have hoped.

He snorted with mild humor, "Thanks, great wording choice. I feel fine. What about you?"

"Tired of your bullshit. There are bruises all over your torso and you didn't get enough sleep, there's no way in hell you're fine. Seriously, you're not going to pass out on me, are you?"

He laughed, the sound hollow even to him, "I'm not a pushover, chicken-wuss. The more prudent question is how are you holding up?"

Under the careful scrutiny of ice blue eyes, his facade fell quickly. Thin shoulders slumped and he heaved a sigh before plunking down in the one of the other three empty chairs at the table. The senior looked like he was in pain, though Seifer couldn't tell if it was physical or mental. He guessed it was the latter, if it was the former the younger would be doing his damndest not to let it show.

"I'm...confused. Too much stuff has happened in too little time. I don't know what to do about it all."

The bully wasn't stupid, he knew there was something on his underling's mind other than the events of the past few days. It aggravated him that the smaller teen wouldn't tell him a damn thing. Hayner was a lot more open than he had been, but still, it seemed like there was something bothering him whenever they were in the same general area. And it only got worse the more time they spent in close quarters. He wondered what the hell could make the kid so uncomfortable around him.

"And I'm willing to bet you're not going to elaborate."

"You'd win that bet. I have nothing to explain, you already know what's happened. Unless you suddenly became stupid overnight, it shouldn't take much to figure things out."

He wasn't getting anywhere, so he decided to just drop the topic for now and move onto a new one, "Speaking of bets, you planning to go to the struggle tournament tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I figured I might as well. Why, you still planning on that bet thing? I don't know what the hell you could possibly get out of it."

"Then you're not terribly bright. Not much of a surprise, but really, I expected better. And yeah, I do plan on betting you on the outcome of our match still. If you don't come up with your side, I'll do it for you."

"I'm sure you're plenty capable of coming up with something lucrative enough to tempt me into doing something as idiotic as betting on a match I'm bound to lose. I'll just leave it to you."

Shaking his head, the leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee stared at his companion. He still didn't completely understand the quirky teen. If nothing else, his seeming inconsistencies were interesting. Most of the time he didn't let anyone else choose shit for him, but now he was happy to just leave the terms of a bet he was likely to take for the hell of it up to the older man. At least he kept Seifer guessing, it was kind of nice to have someone around he couldn't always read.

They sat in comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to fill the emptiness between them with pointless chatter. It was peaceful outside, the city was quiet after the heavy rains the night before. It reminded him of something he didn't notice at the time, but Tseng hadn't even had any water on him, though if memory served the soft cadence of rain the roof was still going when the detective arrived without pretense. Then again, very little about the raven-haired foreigner ever made a whole lot of sense. He was managing to get away with screwing the very man he was supposed to be protecting, after all, a little rain-avoidance was probably a walk in the park for him.

After a few more minutes of staring off into space and occasionally looking at the other occupant of the house, he finally got his ass in gear and went about making them scrambled eggs. It was a lazy breakfast, but damn it all, he was fucking tired. His guest made no complaints. Though the fighter had to wonder if the sandy-haired man would complain even if his host refused to feed him. He'd probably just find his own food or deal with it. He was one of the few people that stubborn actually looked good on.

As they ate, the cook couldn't help but notice the way the other avoided eye contact and seemed to lack much appetite. He was overly thoughtful this morning, and his protector didn't think it boded well for the rest of the day. If he only knew what was wrong, he'd do everything he could to fix it. The emotional stress the high school student was causing him by refusing to talk when he was in what appeared to be utter turmoil was actually causing the older blond physical pain. The sooner he could get rid of the strange ache in his chest, the better.

The one thing that probably nagged at him most was that he didn't know how to help the dark-eyed teen cope with having killed someone, more than what he'd already done. The big difference between Hayner now and Seifer when he'd first taken a life was that the bully had been living the gang life for a year or so. When you live in such a violent, dark world and routinely put people in the hospital, it's not as big a jump to put them in a morgue instead. But the other had lived in relative comfort, free of the lurking darkness of the streets. It was one of few ways they couldn't really relate to one another.

"What are we going to do today? We can't just sit around all day."

"I was planning on calling a meeting of the crew once Fujin and Raijin get out of classes. Tell them what Tseng said about the Bahamut crew. We need to figure out some way to even the odds."

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, the younger blond pursed his lips in thought for a few moments before offering, "Axel and his friends would be happy to help. Even if they're slightly insane, Axel's dad and Reno taught them all how to fight. They're not that bad."

"I know. I've seen them get into scuffles with lone wolf thugs who try to mug kids on their way home. This guy broke Zex's nose and stole his backpack, Axel and the crew came to me and asked where he was. After calling one of my contacts, I gave them his address and out of curiosity followed them. I doubt his own mother recognized him afterwards."

"I heard about that from Roxas. I didn't know they went to you though."

"A lot of people do. I have access to a lot of people, so if someone street-smart wants information, they usually come to me. Though the only ones who know my cell number are you, Fuu, Rai, my coworkers, my contacts and the Turks."

"Anyways, where will the meeting be?"

"Coffee shop downtown, Cold Turkey. It's run by an old detective who up and quit in the middle of a big case. Turns out that his partner was corrupt and planned to off him if he got too close. He figured it out and informed the Turks, who ended up arresting half the department for corruption and other charges. He opened up a coffee shop a few blocks away from the station, it's a haunt for the Turks and a safe place to talk for people like me. The owner's known me since I came here."

"Sounds like an interesting place. What time are they going to get out?"

"Three. Until then, I suggest you arrange to meet your annoying little friends. They're probably worried about you."

"Are you planning to come with?"

"I've got nothing better to do. Besides, I don't trust you to get there without tripping and killing yourself. You have shit luck lately, even if some of it was your own fault."

A small smile played at the corners of the tanned senior's lips, "You know, I'd like to tell them that you are actually capable of genuinely caring about someone other than yourself, but I don't think they'd even believe me."

He could feel the scowl forming on his face, but by the mirth in the other's eyes, he didn't mean a word of it. It was probably true that few people would believe that he cared, but he knew Hayner did. Everyone else could fuck themselves. The brown-eyed blond stood up from his mostly eaten meal and pulled his phone out (it was amazing he was smart enough this early in the morning to remember to transfer it from the pants he wore yesterday to Seifer's), dialing one of his posse as he walked into the living room.

Troubled that the already skinny boy didn't finish his meal, the scarred man removed their plates, dumped what remained of the eggs on his guest's into the trash, and set the dishes in the sink to be bothered with later. He was starting to feel the caffeine kick in, and the world was already seeming that much better. Of course, a confrontation with his newest member's friends was going to be hellish once they found out, but at least he'd be awake to deal with it. As much as he didn't want to go, he knew it had to be done. If nothing else, it would pay to be on speaking terms with them if he ever managed to get the volatile senior to go out with him.

"Seifer, is swinging by the Usual Spot at noon alright with you?" The engaged eighteen year-old called from the other room.

"Yeah. Warn them that I'll be coming."

Another couple minutes passed before he returned to the kitchen to find his protector leaning against the counter. By the time pale eyes raised to look at him, he was already halfway across the room, intent on something. As the younger skater entered what Seifer considered his personal bubble, he realized that his companion wasn't after proximity for the sake of talking, but instead had finally gotten a good look at the dark purple bruise on his torso. Before there had been a table blocking the worst of it.

A gentle hand ghosted over the area darkened by blood, and the overly-sensitized skin practically shivered beneath it. Hayner's face was only inches from his own, their gaze straight down to the site of injury, so at least he didn't notice the bully's face flushing. The tough college student couldn't believe he'd let it get so bad that a single touch could send a thrill down his spine.

"How'd you get this?" He was startled out of his thoughts by the quiet query, and tilted his head to the left so that his blushing face would be less visible.

"I don't remember. Most of yesterday is a blur. I don't usually recall a lot of things about a fight. I'm surprised this thing didn't show up earlier, or that I didn't notice it if it had. Then again, we were in the dark most of last night."

"I don't think I'd ever be able to take a hit like that and not notice."

"You aren't used to fighting. Eventually you'll pay less attention to what hits you give or take than to the fact that you're breathing."

"Do your injuries hurt a lot right now?"

"Not really, but I wouldn't suggest applying pressure to them. I might unintentionally knock you on your ass."

The lithe boy backed off a bit, frowning and jamming his hands into his pockets. If the taller man's intuition wasn't on the fritz, his crush didn't like to see him hurt. The thought brought a small smile to his face, though he wasn't entirely sure why he should be that amazed that his newest member cared enough to get upset. They moved in unison to the living room then, sitting down the on the couch, the eldest flipping the TV on. At some point the dull droning of the newscasters lulled him into nearly nodding off despite the energy cocktail that was thrumming through his veins.

Ironically, the thing that jerked him back to attention was that the brown-eyed teen behind him had already fallen asleep and slumped over to land against his back. When he didn't immediately rouse, the high school graduate couldn't bring himself to try harder. Instead, he got up and sat behind the slumbering blond, leaning against the arm of the sofa and pulling his charge into his lap. Leaning against the broad chest, Hayner curled up a bit more inside his large clothes and continued to sleep undisturbed. It was the dictionary definition of cute.

He was content to just watch the tired boy sleep and watch the news, it was nice to relax a bit after so much stress. Two hours and a few scattered minutes later, and the slight blond woke up again. Once his confusion passed, he turned pink and apologized for falling asleep. The scarred fighter had laughed and shaken his head, saying he needn't feel sorry for being tired. They got up and went about doing the things they needed to before leaving, since it was eleven-fifteen and they needed to leave in a little under half an hour to be able to walk to the Usual Spot in time.

The golden-blond finished dressing, putting on a dark blue t-shirt and donning his favorite boots and beanie. As a gesture of goodwill, he decided to forgo his leather gloves. He wasn't planning on getting into any fights today, well, any fights that required heavy physical contact. He grabbed his cell out of where he'd forgotten it in his pants pocket from yesterday and put it in the pocket of the jeans he was currently wearing.

Hayner borrowed one of his combs and used a little water to flip up the hair that had fallen down from it's normal formation. The owner of the apartment then kicked him out of the bathroom so the older male could shave the stubble that was beginning to show along his jaw line and brush his teeth.

"Done yet princess?"

He could feel his eye twitch in aggravation as he turned to glare daggers and whatever sharp objects he could think of at the smug struggler waiting in the bathroom threshold. Spitting the fluoride into the sink and wiping his mouth, he resisted the itch that tingled on the ends of his fingers that wanted nothing more to smack that mocking look off his face. Settling for sneering and shoving him out of the way, he made his way to the door, the smirking boy following on his heels.

The walk there was actually pleasant, even if the older man was quiet. If Hayner had to guess, he wasn't looking forward to the Usual Spot group's reaction to the news that their friend had joined the Disciplinary Committee. If he was going to be honest with himself, he wasn't either. It went without saying that his friends wouldn't be happy about him joining one of the most dangerous gangs in the city. He just had to hope they'd understand it was his choice. It wasn't just a chance to be with the love of his life, it was a chance to actually do something with himself, and get a little life experience along the way.

He'd already gotten some yesterday, he didn't think he'd ever be able to shake the sickening images. After Seifer's constant berating him about how it hadn't been his fault, he'd decided that he would try to accept that it had happened and continue on with his life. So far it was only barely working, he still felt sick to his stomach and it was hard to even enjoy the freshness of the after-rain air. The despair that clutched at his heart was all but gone now though, in its place a solemn regret and a resolve to become a better fighter so he wouldn't end up in a situation where he needed to kill someone to survive.

It was with a strange lightness compared to his gloomy mood that he realized that after yesterday, things would be that much easier. As sick and twisted as it may be, he didn't dread the thought of fighting a band of thugs twice the size of him that much anymore. Once you've actually driven a knife through someone's heart, beating someone who was out to kill you unconscious didn't seem as terrible. He'd never get to the point where he actually enjoyed fighting to stay alive, but at least there might be some small good thing that came from the hellish event.

"You're thinking about it too much again."

Blinking to clear his head, he looked over to the scarred teen, the other's pale eyes appearing genuinely concerned. How many weeks had it been since he would have never have been afforded that look in a million years? So much had happened in so little time he opted to just not think about it, it was making his head spin.

He was closer than he could have ever dreamed to the attractive bully, but it only seemed to do more harm than good every time the older male would open up to him or touch him casually. He could touch, talk to, and sleep next to what he wanted most in life, but he simply couldn't have it. It was only a matter of time before he lost his mind.

"Earth to chicken-wuss, either stop thinking or start talking. That's an order."

"Ever been so close to something you really want, but know you can't have it?"

"Yeah, I have. Drives you fucking crazy, doesn't it?"

If he didn't know better, the brown-eyed teen would think they were actually talking about the exact same thing as he hummed in agreement before continuing, "Well, that's what's been bothering me the most lately."

"I'd agree, except most of my brooding time has been spent taking care of your ass. You're pretty high-maintenance when you want to be."

"You don't have to bother, you know. Don't bitch about something you're not being forced into."

"Oh, like I'm really going to leave a comrade to put himself back together. What the hell kind of asshole do you think I am? Besides, I'm not bitching, I'm just saying that I haven't had a lot of time to lament on problems I already have plans to fix."

If anyone was well-versed in the Seifer-meanings of things, it was the senior walking next to him, and unless he was mistaken, the blue-eyed blond had just said he didn't mind taking care of him. Catching sight of the Usual Spot ahead of them was enough to quell the treacherous swell of warmth in the pit of his stomach. Making sure he entered first, to take the brunt of the expected hostility towards the gang leader, he slipped in quietly.

The first one to greet him was Olette, who was nothing but a bright green blur as she tackled him in a hug that was carefully calculated to miss his still injured ribs. Even if she was petite, the brunette projectile had caught him off guard and he lost his balance. Hard arms wrapped around his waist as he crashed into the man behind him. Letting loose a small gasp of surprise, the green-eyed girl backed away from the newly entered pair.

Three sets of eyes watched them, no doubt noticing that not only had the cold man actually shown up, but he'd just caught their friend like it was normal for them to be that close, and was a little too slow to let go. Cerulean eyes seemed to understand this change in their demeanor, but Pence and his girlfriend were at a loss.

"We're glad you're safe Hayner, we were all so worried when we heard about it from Axel," it was, as always, the sole female in the group who broke the ice.

"Sorry, didn't mean to freak you guys out, but I'm going to have to again. I joined the Disciplinary Committee."

As he knew it would, the gathering place that held so many memories went silent. He had only to wait a few seconds and-

"WHAT?" Impressively, they all seemed to find their voices at the exact same time, the exclamation unison. He flinched and gave them his best sheepish smile. Violently blue eyes flicked from the gang leader to his underling, settling on the latter accusingly. Hayner could read his best friend like a book, the golden-blond thought he was just doing this to get closer to his crush.

"Look, it's what I want to do, there's nothing you can do to stop me. I've made my choice, you guys will just have to deal with it."

"But Hayner, you're involving yourself in gang wars," Pence put in, emphasis on the last two words, "You're going to get yourself killed."

"I've nearly gotten myself killed a lot lately, at least this way I'd be risking my life for a purpose. Besides, I can't just pretend like everything is going to go back to normal. I've gotten in this deep, I might as well stick with it."

"Axel heard from Reno that you might end up facing off with the most feared gang in Twilight Town soon. He offers his services, along with Zex, Dem, Marly and Larxene. Sure you're up for something this big?"

"If we have help, I'm sure we can handle it. Will you join in too Rox?"

A slow smirk spread on the slightly shorter senior's face and he nodded, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, someone has to keep Axel in line."

"Not you too Roxas! Don't you two understand how dangerous this is?" Olette fumed, green eyes alight with disapproval as she leveled them on both boys, then the last remaining blond, "And Seifer, how can you possibly let them risk their lives like this? You should have been the first one to tell Hayner he shouldn't do this!"

Amazing everyone there, the fighter took the high road and simply explained himself in an even tone instead of shooting off a remark, "He asked me if he could join. I told him it wasn't going to be easy or safe, but he wanted to anyways. It's not my place to make his choices for him or tell him he can't do something because it isn't healthy, and I'm not about to refuse good help just because they're my friend."

And there it was. The last word that cancelled out the importance of anything else he might have said. The brunette girl's eyes cooled in confusion, then slow understanding crept across her face. The two teens standing close together near the entrance were friends now, the larger male was probably the most adverse to the idea of the skater on his crew out of all of them. This wasn't Seifer using their friend, it was him accepting that the brown-eyed boy had the right to make his own choices, regardless of how ill-advised they were.

"I still say you're all crazy, but if that's really what you want to do Hayner, we'll be there for you. It doesn't matter who you hang out with or how much trouble you're in, we'll always be friends, right?"

"This seems way too easy, but yeah."

"Your mom is going to kill you man," Roxas piped up, cheerfully crashing his best friend's temporary good mood.

"Actually, she's probably going to kill him, if anyone," the sandy-haired teen answered, jerking a thumb in the bully's direction. The eldest of them scowled in response, shifting his weight to the other foot nervously. His companion didn't blame him for being a little hesitant to want to explain to a terrified mother why her son was joining a gang.

"What are we doing just standing around, let's go out and get some ice cream, my treat!" Olette suggested with a bright smile, again trying to break the bit of tension left in the air. It was one of her specialties, even when things went to shit between the two hotheads of the group, she was usually able to calm everyone down before they started throwing punches. Her parents were also both well-off, so she generally paid for everyone's ice cream herself. Hayner had no clue what they would do without her, she was like a sister to both him and Roxas.

"Sounds good, especially since I'm not paying," the blue-eyed senior agreed, getting down from the stack of crates he'd been sitting on.

As the five made their way to the ice cream shop in the shopping district, the well-muscled blond glanced at the way to the Sandlot and suddenly remembered something, telling them to go on ahead while he went to go get something. The lithe struggler had wanted to come with him, but he just shook his head and took off towards the lot. Shrugging and guessing whatever it was wouldn't take very long, the dark-eyed boy followed his friends. They were just getting their sea salt ice cream bars when he came skating up on what the lanky male recognized as his own board.

"Forget something dumbass?" The icy shards that leveled at him were glinting with self-congratulations rather than derision as he handed the younger blond his skateboard, which had been spared from the rain by the hunk of steel on top of it.

"Thanks, I did forget about it. I'm surprised you were even listening when I told you where I'd hidden it, or that you remembered."

Muscular shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, brushing it off, though it seemed like he'd wanted to say a bit more. Even if the hard gang leader was being a bit more like himself, they were still in a public place. Certain images needed to be maintained. Olette was asking everyone what flavor they wanted, having already gotten hers and Pence's because they always ordered red, and once she got to the two taller blonds, they both answered that they wanted green.

She giggled and they stopped and stared at each other for a second, and Hayner this close to killing Roxas as he gave them both a teasing smirk. Doing their best to pretend like this wasn't an awkward situation, they didn't bother adjusting their choice of flavor, and ignored the pretty brunette's smile as she handed it to them. They headed to the clock tower above the station, their favorite place to eat the salty-sweet dessert and hang out. Though they were half done with the frozen treat by the time they got to the top, it was still worth it to hang their feet over the edge and take in the view while they finished.

Seifer hung back, leaning against the wall behind the ledge. The day was starting to warm up, but it was still cool enough that the still injured senior wasn't hot in his protector's heavy clothes.

"Hey, Hayner...Are you wearing Seifer's clothes? I don't recognize them."

Trying his best not to blush at his friend's 'is there something you want to tell me' look, "Yeah, mine had blood on them. I really didn't want to wander around in bloodstained clothes all day."

"That would be a little conspicuous," he agreed with a grimace, finding the thought unpleasant to say the least, "You holding up okay?"

When he answered that he was doing fine he received a skeptical snort from behind him, the pale-eyed blond offering his opinion on the matter in a non-verbal manner. Three sets of eyes watched Hayner with worry, but when he met their gaze, they let the issue drop. He didn't feel like being pressured into admitting that he was less than okay about the things that had happened. They should already know that anyways, it didn't take a genius.

"Have you even looked at the study material for our classes Hayner?" The green-eyed girl asked, switching the subject quickly. Both younger blonds groaned, neither of them had started on it.

"You two aren't planning on studying, are you?"

"Nail on the head 'Lette. We have, what, a week left of school? No one but you cares anymore. The tests are going to be easy, and even if I managed to get zero points on all of them, I'll still pass all my classes. It's no big."

"You two are infuriating! You never seem to give a damn about your schoolwork!"

"Isn't that what a normal high school senior does, not care?" The college student finally piped up. She seemed to run out of steam at that point, settling for crossing her arms on her chest and silently vent her discontent. The green-clad girl had always been an honors student who had near perfect attendance, she didn't seem to understand that some people didn't enjoy anything relating to or in the general vicinity of school.

They hung around and talked idly until about one in the afternoon, when Roxas had to leave for work. The couple left to go study together (nerds that they were), leaving the recently inseparable pair to themselves on the quiet tower. The larger came over to sit next to his charge, at just the right proximity so that their shoulders brushed. He was offering companionship, the slighter male recognized.

"I think that went over pretty well. Thanks for handling that better than you normally would."

"I'm pretty sure that was a mild insult, but you're welcome. You know, you never used to thank me for anything without looking like you were being forced into it."

"And you used to be nothing but an ass to me and my friends. Things have changed a lot recently. I like it better this way."

He smiled, for once it was real, and the high school student was so caught up in it he barely heard him say, "Me too."

"Good to see you still breathing, Seifer, the others are waiting in your usual booth. Is this the new kid?" A man who looked to be in his forties asked, dark brown eyes shifting from the older man to the younger one holding a skateboard.

"Yeah, this is Hayner. Mind taking care of some evidence for me?" The blue-eyed blond asked as he tossed the black garbage bag with the bloodied clothes in it towards him over the counter.

"Heard about that fiasco, sorry to hear it too. Don't worry, I'll make sure this stuff never existed," he added in reference to the clothes, which he slipped under the counter, winking at a waitress. As he scanned the coffee shop, he saw their fellow members in a small booth in the corner, and a at a table sat none other than Rufus Shinra, calmly sipping at a cup of black liquid and eyeing the two new arrivals.

The owner introduced himself as Jack White, to which he immediately added that it wasn't his real name. Some detectives used aliases, and some carried them to their graves. He offered the smaller teen his condolences and wished him the best of luck. As they passed the strawberry-blond in his signature white suit, he spoke, "So, you're the one who managed to outsmart Reno with a saucepan? Tseng seems interested in you, from what he said this morning. I do apologize for his late night intrusion, he takes his job far too seriously."

"He still hasn't come by for his lunch break?" The strong blond asked, curious.

"No, he's been taking them later and later. He's been quite busy lately. There was something he wished to speak with me about in relative privacy, so I've been waiting. Good luck, by the way, it sounds like you might have a tough time of it soon. Believe me, the city appreciates what you're doing."

"Spoken like a true politician."

"Thank you, I try. I am running next year, I may as well get used to it now," he said with a crooked smile.

With a curt nod and the necessary pleasantries, Seifer steered them out of the conversation and towards their waiting members. The scrawny high school student wasn't sure what he thought of the mayor's son, but he knew one thing for sure: the twenty-something was dangerous. Sensing that the bully wanted to sit on the outside, the younger slid into the booth first, balancing his board in his lap.

"So, Bahamut, what the hell are we going to do?" Their leader started simply.

"TEMPORARY RECRUITS," the silver-haired female said, voice kept to a dull shout.

"Roxas, Axel, Marluxia, Demyx, Zexion, and Larxene. Aside from Hayner, who is a full-fledged member. That puts the odds at three-to-one, assuming their member count hasn't changed since it was last checked. Considering how tough these guys are, and that most of our members aren't fully trained, that's still not great."

"We could see if the Turks could free up that day so they could help us out, the Chief of Police would probably be a lot more likely to let them because it's the largest gang left, ya know?" Raijin offered helpfully.

"I thought no one else knew about their methods?" The brown-eyed blond piped up.

"Well, the Chief does, he just pretends like he doesn't. He's managed to convince everyone so far. And yeah Rai, I think we could probably convince the Turks to help us, at least I know Reno and Rude will. If Axel's involved, his brother will come to help regardless of whether he's allowed to or not, and where Reno goes, Rude generally follows. We'd probably be able to snag Elena the same way. If we can get all three in on the deal, we're looking at much better odds."

"ANNIHILATION."

Chuckling at the red-eyed girl's enthusiasm, he nodded once, "Now we just need to get people to watch the Bahamut's movements, start getting hard evidence against them for when we finally bring them in. You two think you could handle getting in touch with some friends?"

They agreed, the woman's single visible eye determined. They were brought coffee by one of the noticeably well-endowed waitresses, told it was on the house for a job well done. Maybe he was paying too much attention, but he noted that ice blue eyes didn't stray to her ample cleavage as she leaned over to place their cups down. It was strange that an assumedly straight man wouldn't be checking out the hot waitress. Unless there was already someone on his mind.

Pale irises flicked over to him and he averted his gaze. As expected, the scarred man drank his coffee black, flipping one of the many cream containers supplied in his fingers. They relaxed in the quiet atmosphere, Rai and Fuu relating the way the physics professor had managed to shock himself while giving a presentation. Apparently their physics teacher was as much of a dickhead as his was, so he found it hilarious. Suddenly the lone female stopped paying attention to her boyfriend's story and focused on the door. They all turned discreetly to see the awaited Turk enter and immediately stride over to his partner's table.

"Someone's gonna be sleeping in the doghouse, if Rufus's expression has any indication. I'm pretty sure he's been waiting for a couple of hours," the older struggler commented wryly after seeing the clandestine couple's greetings. Indeed, the blue-eyed man looked downright irritated with his raven-haired companion. The sandy-haired teen had to wonder just what was always keeping the exotic detective so busy all the time.

The Disciplinary Committee finished their beverages and left, eventually separating into two groups, each heading to a different side of town. The odd couple were headed to their apartment to start work on one of the annoying term papers they had to finish for Friday next week, and the pair of blonds headed to the smaller boy's house. Dreading explaining the reason he joined a gang to his mom, he was glad he had a couple of hours before she came home.

"You could hang around if you wanted, I'm sure she'd be at least momentarily happy to see you."

A snort, "She'd probably come after me with sharp objects when you got around to telling her you'd joined up with us. In the interests of personal safety, I'm going to head home. Good luck, you're going to need it. You can keep the clothes, and try not to do anything stupid before next Saturday."

Rolling his eyes and saying goodbye, and watched the lone fighter walk a ways down the sidewalk before unlocking the door and walking in. Dumping his skateboard in an out of the way place in the entryway, he immediately headed upstairs. Groaning as he flopped on his bed, he discovered that he already missed the larger man. It was a small comfort that he'd been allowed to keep the golden-blond's clothes, maybe it was odd, but he felt like he was carrying around a small part of Seifer when he wore the other's clothes.

Toeing his shoes off, he curled up on the bed. The coffee and earlier nap did little to relieve his lethargy, and he wouldn't mind falling asleep right here and never waking up. He honestly wasn't looking forward to the final week of school. As much as he could pretend otherwise, he was a little anxious about the unit tests most of the teachers gave the last real week. He would pass his classes with decent grades even if he bombed them, that was true, but he really disliked failing much of anything academic. Being average in something was fine, but failing was just...depressing.

Moving onto another topic before he could get worried enough to pick up one of the textbooks and legitimately study from it, he ran into the brick wall that was tomorrow. He knew that he was going to show up, most likely agree to whatever crazy bet the bully had come up with, and would lose in what would be at best a one-sided fight. The blue-eyed blond would be pretty determined to win, and he put decent odds on the idea that not even being hit by a train could stop the muscular teen when he had his mind set on something.

The worst part was that he didn't care that he was going to get the crap kicked out of himself, because it was another chance to see his crush. Some part of him knew that the surprisingly caring man would probably patch him up after he inevitably scraped his knees and cut his palms while being knocked around the ring. Part of him wanted tomorrow to just come already, so he could get the stupid match out of the way and find out what the heck his hero wanted of him, and the other, more sane half wanted today to last forever because it didn't look forward to being beaten into the ground with a padded bat.

Not thinking sounded like a wonderful idea at this point. Rolling onto his back, he sighed and closed his eyes. Forcing himself to let go of all his problems for the time being, his mind wandered before he fell asleep again.

Waking up in the arms of someone he cared about was definitely something he could get used to.

"Mom?" He mumbled as he opened his eyes to see her looking down at him. He was cradled in her lap, and it looked like she might have been crying. Frowning in confusion, he shifted to sit next to her.

"Sorry honey, I guess that's sort of a strange thing to wake up to. I'm just glad to have you home safe and sound. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I joined the Disciplinary Committee."

Well, that wasn't exactly the way he'd wanted to go about it, but at least that part was done. In a rare moment of complete and utter speechlessness, the blond woman stared at him for a few seconds while she attempted to process this. Then, a questioning eyebrow raised, her lips pursing. It was better than his friends' reaction to the news .

"I wanted to help him, for once in my life do something instead of just worry. Besides, I had a feeling I was in too far to try to get out now. It's what I want to do, even if it's dangerous. Seifer's always protecting everyone else, it's time someone protected him."

"You've grown Hayner. A year ago your only reasoning for joining up with them would have been so that you could get closer to the man you loved. Now you have a legitimate reason for risking your life. You really believe in this, in him. And while I in no way enjoy you being in a position of life-threatening danger, I have to say I think you've done the right thing. It's just that often the right thing is not what makes a mother happy."

"Sorry Mom. Try not to worry too much, I'm pretty sure nothing will happen to me as long as the others are around," he assured her, wondering just how the hell he had the luck to get such an understanding mother. She may not be happy with his decision, but at least she seemed to approve of it.

She laughed, "Nothing's going to stop me from worrying, logic or not."

"Seifer wants me to go to the struggle competition tomorrow, is that alright?"

"You know you're not supposed to struggle until your arm and ribs are fully healed," she reminded him with a look meant to guilt him out of it.

"Mom, I was in a gang fight yesterday. I don't think being smacked with a padded bat is going to aggravate my injuries if that didn't," he loved being able to make a valid point.

"Fine, if you really want to. Try not to come home bloody," she relented.

He smiled and lied, saying he wouldn't. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but instead got up and threw over her shoulder that he should try to do something productive if he was going to his homework as she left. He grabbed one of the many non-school-related books he hadn't gotten around to reading because of various other things eating up his time and began reading it. It probably counted as productive to someone.

Wondering just what the fuck he was doing, he narrowly dodged the blue bat aimed at his side. He'd just willingly bet on a match he knew he was going to lose. And when he lost, he'd have to do precisely what he hoped he'd have the guts to do on his own. He'd have to finally tell Seifer who his crush was. It made no sense that the bully would be so intent on finding out unless he had some sort of agenda of his own. Hayner didn't remember what the other side of the bet was, he didn't care. This was possibly the least painful way he'd ever been presented with to tell the man he loved how he felt. At least after today, he'd be done with it, for better or worse.

He guessed a smart person would spare themselves a thrashing and just forfeit near the start of the fight, but as he was knocked back by a particularly powerful blow from his opponent, he knew that neither of them would be satisfied until the fight was well and truly won. Never once had the younger blond thrown in the towel, and he wasn't about to start now. This was the type of fighting he enjoyed, no life or death situations, just him and his eternal rival and object of affection in a ring.

Something about the way they fought each other conveyed in motion what they always failed to in words. While the scarred man was vicious in the way he kept coming at his slighter opponent, he almost always limited the amount of force behind his swings. He wanted to defeat Hayner, not hurt him. The weaker boy always tended to be on the defensive, blocking his ice blue-eyed companion as much as he could. When he did get offensive, he usually darted below the well-built teen's guard and knocked a few of the balls on his struggle vest off before getting back out of his range. He was afraid to get close to his crush.

Adrenaline making this body hum like high-voltage power lines, he jumped back to avoid a horizontal swing aimed at his torso. Unable to regain his footing in time, he took the diagonal backswing on the shoulder, losing another dozen points or so. He was losing hard and fast, the next hit he failed to avoid striking him hard enough to send him flying to the side. Skidding on his knees, he grimaced as the ring bit into them. Rolling away from the advancing fighter, he jumped to his feet, noticing the look of mild regret on the handsome man's face. His knees must be bleeding then.

The timer was winding down and he had half the balls he'd started with. The match was almost over, so he switched tactics. Snarling, he rushed the college student and began battering him with fast blows. Shock evident on his features, the aggressive gang leader took a couple of hits before he managed to react. Jamming the handle of the weapon into the smaller boy's chest, Seifer recovered from his momentary surprise and began returning the enthusiasm in kind.

Air escaped from his lungs in a single grunt as he was sent back down, this time landing on his back and elbows. Launching himself back up he jabbed the taller teen in the ribs, knocking off struggle balls neither had any intention of picking up. It had ceased to be about anything but the players themselves. The brown-eyed male used light, quick hits to exhaust his rival, who blocked most of them. Catching onto the strategy quickly, he went back on the offensive, taking the lithe senior's attacks in order to make heavier-hitting strikes of his own.

Telling the rules to fuck themselves, the skinny skater dipped down to make a ground-sweeping kick, the older man's legs buckling under him. Landing hard on the ground, he looked up at his cheating opponent with a smirk. A quick glance at the referee revealed that he was just as entranced by their fight as the rest of the silent crowd. He wasn't about to stop them unless they did something incredibly stupid.

As the seasoned fighter rose, he ducked low and rammed his shoulder into a scrawny abdomen. Pain surged through the dark-eyed struggler as he fell backwards once more, managing to flip mid-air so he landed forward on his good hand, which had released the bat. A stray rock cut into his palm. Grabbing his weapon up again, he had just enough time to turn around to face his opponent before the muscular nineteen year-old was quite literally on top of him. One hand pinning him to the ground, the bully was straddling him for the last few seconds of the match.

When the buzzer sounded, the only other sounds was their tired panting, chests heaving from the overly violent match. The crowd was still awed into silence, they had never seen such a vigorous showing by the two delinquents. The referee didn't need to make the announcement though, it was clear who won, to Hayner, Seifer, the crowd, and indeed whatever higher power might have been watching. Icy eyes glinting in satisfaction, the leader of the Twilight Disciplinary Committee had won by at least thirty points. He stood, removing the hand that had been holding down his friend and occasional enemy, holding it out to instead help him up.

Taking it and being jerked to his feet, the senior was conflicted. He felt like the world had fallen out from under his feet. He felt like he'd just had a huge weight on his shoulders removed. He felt like he'd just done one of the most enjoyable things he'd ever done in his life. He felt like he'd just been thrown down a flight of stairs. Above all, he felt the feeling of despair rising up in the pit of his stomach as he was stripped of his struggle gear and lead by the hand away from the ring and out of the Sandlot entirely by his crush. Roxas, Demyx, Axel, and Zexion had come to see the match, and they seemed as rooted to the spot as the rest of the crowd, watching as their friend was dragged away.

Once they were out of range, the college student pulled him into a wide alley and immediately pressed him against the wall of one of the buildings with one hand fisted in his shirt. Meeting the hard gaze head on, he almost wanted to stop a second to admire the view. The bully had a sheen of sweat on him from the heated match, and his eyes held a mix of resolve and foreboding.

"A bet's a bet, you lost, now spill it," he growled. Guessing the sky wasn't going to take pity on him and fall already, he decided it was time to end all of this running away from his problems.

"You. I love you. I've had a crush on you for years, and up until now you haven't paid a damn bit of attention to me. Happy?" If someone could just ever so conveniently snipe him off right now, that would be great. He sucked at dealing with rejection.

"Fuck, this entire time you've been bitching about me? Am I really that blind?" Pale eyes roiled with confusion and sudden understanding. Caught up in trying to come to terms with his own lack of observational skills, he said nothing about how he felt towards the boy he had pinned against the wall. Something inside the senior finally snapped. He punched the gorgeous man right in the jaw, hard.

Reflexively letting go of the sandy-haired teen, Seifer staggered back a couple steps to get out of the volatile male's immediate range.

"What the fuck was that for?" The assaulted snarled, tasting blood.

"I finally tell you how I've felt for so long, and you don't even have the common courtesy to tell me where you're at about it? A little fucking feedback would be nice, instead of lamenting the fact that you're a fucking idiot who wouldn't see a brick wall in front of him until he smacked into it. Normal people don't go 'damn, really, how could I not have seen it?' when someone tells them they love them. They either reject them or return the sentiment. Is it so damn hard to give me a straight answer?" He yelled, not caring who the hell heard him at this point. The golden-blond's self-absorbed attitude had him pissed.

The larger male opened his mouth to retort, then shut it again, a strange look in his eyes. Rising aggravation was instantly dispelled when the heavily-muscled man stepped back towards him and wet, abused lips crashed against his. The kiss was sloppy and tasted of a mixture of sweat, blood, and Seifer. Stunned, he searched his crush's eyes, finding them to be watching him just as intently. A strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him flush against the other, the gang leader's hand tangling in Hayner's hair. He responded by moving his own arms to rest on the taller man's shoulders, clasping his hands together behind his neck.

Opening his mouth when he felt the older teen's tongue on his lips, he let his eyes fall closed. As the kiss deepened, he shut his mind off to avoid contemplating just what the hell was going on. The lithe senior engaged the small appendage, shoving his tongue against it. They momentarily fought for dominance before he gave in under the stronger teen's relentless attacks, letting him take the lead. When breathing through their noses ceased to be enough, the broke apart.

"Sorry that answer wasn't 'straight' either," the blue-eyed blond joked, pausing before adding in a more serious tone, "I love you, too."

Best. Day. Ever. Something told him that if his crush had just said it, he wouldn't have believed him. This way, he'd be hard pressed to explain why in hell Seifer would make out with him if he didn't love him. Still, as he buried his face in the fighter's broad chest, he couldn't help but wonder if this was just a really realistic dream. Except that he was bleeding in several places, and he ached all over. Most dreams didn't include pain.

"I'm sorry."

Not really in a position to talk, he hummed questioningly at his leader.

"For causing you so much grief by being an idiot. I could have spared us both a lot of heartache by paying more attention."

Regretting his earlier outburst, he pulled away from the warm sanctuary and bit his lip, "You're not an idiot, I didn't really mean that. I'm sorry for punching you...I was just frustrated."

"I don't blame you. If I were you, I would have done that a long time ago. At least you would have gotten my attention."

"We should head back soon, the others are going to come looking for us."

"Too late lovebirds!" A voice belonging to one incredibly annoying pyromaniac chimed in from the entrance to the alley. The group strode into view, Roxas a little red in the face. Of course, he did just watch his best friend make out with another guy(or at least that was the only logical explanation for why they were all there), so it could be expected. The newly confessed couple separated, the slighter blond blushing against his will.

"You all owe me twenty bucks," the cerulean-eyed senior told Axel and crew. Grumbling something about 'a stupid bet', they all forked over the specified amount, the spiky-haired blond smirking smugly.

"Roxas...did you seriously bet on us getting together?" The tanned skater couldn't believe his friend, though, if he thought about it, maybe he could believe that Roxas would do something like that. Eyes narrowed into a glare, he began calculating whether he could catch his friend if he decided to give him a mild ass kicking.

"We'll just leave you to it then, wouldn't want to intrude," the redhead said quickly, sensing when it was time to get the heck out of there. Grabbing his boyfriend, the tall man left quickly, not wanting to find out just how pissed off Hayner was about the wager. His friends followed. Vowing to get his infuriating friend back for betting on his love life, he turned to the more important blond in his life. A small squeak fled his lips when he was almost instantly swept off his feet and into powerful arms. The well-built teen carried him out of the alley and showed no indications of wanting to let him down.

"Mind if we head to my place? We really should clean the scrapes on your knees and elbows. I've got the rest of the day off, always have struggle days free."

"Why does your manager let you have so much time off?"

"Because he likes me? And besides, I'm only part-time, it's easy for me to swap hours with someone."

"Are you always going to go to struggles?"

"If you're there, yeah. If you quit doing it, I wouldn't come anymore either, for a long time you were the only reason I bothered to show up. The other contestants are a joke, and not nearly as fun to fight. At least you beat me occasionally."

"And here I thought you just threw the match sometimes to be nice."

He snorted, "I never lose on purpose, no matter what it is. By the way, you should play dirty more often, that was far more fun than a normal match."

"Were you trying to word that suggestively, or did it just come out that way?" The dark-eyed senior asked, trying not to blush. The man carrying him just smirked. As he rested his head against the firm chest, he suddenly remembered something from yesterday.

"I hope I missed your bruises. I wasn't really paying much attention to where I was aiming."

The scarred man laughed, "I could care less if you did or not. There's too much adrenaline running through me for me to really notice the pain. It was a fight Hayner, the whole point is to use your opponent's weakness to your advantage. Besides, I wasn't exactly being gentle with you either. Sorry about knocking you around so much. I really hadn't intended to make you bleed."

The high school student scoffed, "I stabbed someone through the heart after nearly being strangled to death and then willingly joined a gang, do you really think a few scrapes bother me?"

"I don't think much of anything bothers you. You always seem to get up after being thrown on your ass, even if it takes a couple days. You're pretty tough, for a pipsqueak."

Rolling his eyes at the backhanded compliment, he nestled himself in further against the man who (unbelievable though it was) loved him. People were giving them strange looks as they traversed the streets, but one glare from ice-colored eyes was enough to make them avert their gazes and hurry past. The sky was mostly clear, and Hayner decided that was indeed heaven, curled up in his long-time crush's arms, staring up into the sky while listening to a strong heartbeat from the beside his head.

Once they finally reached the tall building, the senior waited to be put down so that his protector wouldn't have to carry him up the stairs. It never happened. As the blue-eyed college student ascended the stairs, the boy he was holding couldn't help but ask why he was doing it in the first place. He answered simply, "I like to carry you."

Guessing that was as good an explanation as any, he wasn't about to complain. Because the truth of the matter was that he liked being carried, as long as it was by Seifer. He was thoroughly impressed that his stronger counterpart could climb so many stairs with a considerable amount of extra weight and not even be breathing heavily by the time they arrived at his door. Balanced precariously in the crook of one arm, he watched the older blond jam the key into the knob and open the door without difficulty.

"Did you do that when you carried me here Thursday?"

"Yeah, why?" Light brows arched slightly, wondering why the question was even being asked.

"I kind of assumed you'd dumped me on the ground in order to open your door. It was sweet of you not to."

Setting him on the kitchen counter next to the sink, he pursed his lips a bit before turning to leave, "Be right back, going to get the disinfectant."

Thinking this was disturbingly similar to how this whole thing started when he was attacked on his way home from school, he had to wonder what was going to happen next. Although he'd done little to hide it from passersby today, it was still unknown whether the leader of the Disciplinary Committee wanted to make their relationship public, or indeed if he'd want one at all. It could be assumed, but one could never be sure. The person who was almost always on the scrawny struggler's mind returned with oxygen peroxide and a cloth.

Pouring a small bit of the chemical on each injured knee, he leaned forward and locked lips with the boy he loved. This was infinitely better than the first time around in the store bathroom, the eighteen year-old thought to himself. It was easy to ignore the sting of the solvent on his scrapes in favor of focusing on the hot lips on his. Wiping the blood, chemicals and grains of rock out of the wounds with one hand, the pale-eyed bully let the other trail up Hayner's spine slowly. The shivers that jolted through him were enough to make his toes curl inside his shoes, it could best be described as torture.

Pulling away to check on the state of the injuries he was supposed to be attending to, he seemed to find them properly cleaned. He then moved on to Hayner's hand where he'd landed on it and torn a chunk out on a small rock. Grabbing him by the shirt collar with his bad hand, the slighter boy pulled the other into another kiss. He could feel the smirk on the stronger male's face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It wasn't like his protector didn't like this as much as he did. Kissing Seifer was one of the most addicting things he'd ever done, he didn't want to stop for anything.

Unfortunately, his oxygen-starved brain had other ideas and he eventually broke the contact again. It was so disappointing he nearly pouted. Stunning blue eyes were a little unfocused for a few seconds as they both remembered how to breathe normally.

"You really should call your mom and tell her where you are. Unless you really plan to go home today," this time, the brown-eyed blond knew he was purposely being suggestive, but he also made a good point.

"I think we both know I'm not going back home soon," he returned as he pulled out his phone (he was lucky it could take a beating because he always forgot to take it out of his pocket when he struggled) and began calling the aforementioned mother.

"Even if you tried, I wouldn't let you leave," the college student said seriously, sliding his hands up under the black shirt the sandy-blond always wore to struggles to tease over the planes of his back just as the person on the other end picked up.

"Hayner? Did something happen? You're normally home by now."

"Yeah, kind of, I'm going to be at Seifer's until tomorrow at least be-" His explanation of the situation came to a screeching halt when a gloved hand slipped around to his chest and tweaked one of his nipples, a devilish grin on the man's face as his victim squeaked loudly.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, her voice edged with suspicion.

"N-No, not really. Seifer just can't keep his hands to himself."

"Oh good, remember dear, common sense applies, safe sex and all that. Have fun, try not to get home too late tomorrow," she said cheerily before hanging up, leaving him to stare at the phone in confusion.

"She say something weird?" The golden-blond inquired knowingly.

"Very. She doesn't seem to have a problem with me staying, at least. Did you really have to do that when I was trying to talk to her though?"

"No, but damn was it entertaining. By the way, unless you have issues, I'd like to let our relationship be public."

Well that was unexpected, "Aren't you worried about what people will think of you? You seem to care a lot about your image."

He laughed genuinely, "The rest of the world can fuck itself if they don't like it. I'm not about to avoid you in public just to maintain the illusion that I'm a cold asshole who doesn't give a damn about anyone else. It might actually be true, because I care way more about you than the rest of the general populace. And this way, a lot fewer people will fuck with you, because they know I'll beat the living shit out of them. So unless you're worried about how you'll look, it's a no-brainer for me."

"Do I look like I care what people think of me? If I did, I wouldn't have let you carry me across half the city."

"Well, if that's all settled, let's get back to business," the taller teen said with finality before lifting the senior off the low counter and carrying him into the living room. As their lips met again, Hayner was sure that all those months of pain and loneliness were well worth the reward.

It had been a little under a month since they'd become a couple after confessing their feelings in an alley. Sitting in Seifer's lap on a bench that had recently been added to the corner of the Sandlot, the younger of the two mentally reviewed the events of the past few weeks while he waited for their 'guests' to arrive.

When his boyfriend had said he wanted their relationship public, he wasn't kidding. The next Monday he was waiting for the brown-eyed teen when school got out. When the senior had gotten nervous due to all the nasty looks he got (really, who wouldn't react like that when faced with such blatant hatred?), the gang leader had not only glared right back, but snatched the slighter boy's hand up in his and held it for the remainder of the walk to the latter's home. It was surprising to say the least that the tough bully would do something so...sweet.

Once out of school, the smaller male had gone to hang around the college student's workplace. After a week of loitering and directing customers who apparently though he worked there, Mike gave up and just gave him a job when one of the older employees quit so he could move to another town. Conveniently, the manager saw fit to give the couple the same hours. Of course, it was soon discovered that the stronger man really couldn't keep his hands off Hayner, and would take every opportunity that presented itself to practically molest him in the middle of the aisle they happened to be restocking, or indeed anywhere in the store, visible or not.

He'd long ago gotten used to his partner's way of physically expressing himself when he couldn't do so properly with words. Being with him made love a contact sport. He always said 'I love you' verbally at least once a day when he felt it fit, but he said it dozens of times every waking hour by way of lingering touches and stolen kisses. It seemed so strange that someone who had a reputation for being an asshole without feelings could be so caring when he let his mask fall. Still having a strange fascination with carrying the boy he loved, he often piggybacked the scrawny skater to and from work when the latter was tired. They'd stopped getting looks now, the locals had gotten used to it.

His Fridays were always hectic, because instead of working in the store while his leader went around delivering things, he was at the police station working as an intern under the Turks. After Tseng discovered that, as he'd expected, the graduate had a gift for handwriting comparison work, as well as doing Reno's largely ignored paperwork, the raven-haired detective had 'offered' (you don't refuse the Turks) him an internship at the station for Friday nights. Since there was pretty much no end of the pros of doing the ex-gang members favors and becoming friends with them, he took the job.

Even though he often worked until midnight or later, Seifer would always come over once he was done with his deliveries and wait until his charge was done with work and carry him, half-asleep, home. Elena thought it was positively adorable. Rufus seemed to find something funny about how loyal the more muscular of the two was, but tactfully declined comment other than a small chuckle whenever he caught the other blue-eyed blond sitting on the desk his boyfriend was diligently working at late at night.

At this very moment working for some of the most elite detectives in the region was coming in handy, as three of the four lay in wait in a dark alley just outside of the lot. Axel, Roxas and their crew were waiting near the other entrances, that way the Bahamut crew would be totally surrounded once they entered the chosen fighting ground. Of course, they had no clue what they were walking into. The only visible adversaries were the four permanent members of the Disciplinary Committee.

"Here they come," the golden-blond said quietly as the small army appeared, moving toward the entrance near where the Turks were hiding. He softly kissed the boy in his lap behind the right ear before they both got up. Cracking his neck a bit, he added, "You ready?"

"After all that training, I'd have to hope so. Besides, it's not like I have to worry with you around."

The gang leader quirked a smile for a second before his face became about as expressive as a rock, turning to their enemies. Crossing his arms over his slight chest, the younger fighter grinned at the 'Oh fuck' look on the larger gang members' faces as they massed at the center of the battleground only to see the hidden Committee allies appear from all sides. All the people assembled to take down the felons wore similar looks of amusement mingled with pre-fight excitement. Hayner's mind hadn't formed the words before they left his mouth in a taunting tone.

"Hello boys."

**And...there it goes. Yes, it's probably rife with errors, yes, the ending probably sucks, and no, I don't care anymore. I've worked on this chapter for nearly 100 hours and I'm tired of looking at it. I'm sure you're tired of waiting for it. I can't wait to go to sleep before 3 in the morning now that I'm done with this. If anyone truly hates this last chapter, I might attempt to revise it, but likely I won't, because this is what I had planned all along. Some things were purposely left open or untouched, because I plan to write a few oneshots based in this little universe I've created. Feel free to suggest some ideas/plots for short little 1-4k deals. Thanks for all your positive reviews, they're the only things that kept me going for so long. Love you guys. **


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